


An Anthem To Time

by CharlyLee



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Suga went to Aoba Johsai, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Explicit Language, Fluff, Gen, Graphic Description of Injuries, Idiots in Love, Little bit of blood, Minor Original Character(s), Multi, My First AO3 Post, Occasional smut (Chapters will be marked and can be skipped), Sad Backstories, Side Levyaku, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Team as Family, character injury, mostly fluff and angst because they are all dorks, not as bad as it sounds, please have mercy with me, side AsaNoya - Freeform, side bokuaka, will update characters and tags with time and as soon as I can think of more to add
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2020-10-09 23:00:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 102,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20517857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlyLee/pseuds/CharlyLee
Summary: Sawamura Daichi has not exactly had a live according to his teenage plans.But just when he thinks he has hit absolute stagnation a certain silver haired whirlwind comes crashing into his flower shop, a minute before closing time and with an interesting request.It all spirals from there on.-------Or: What if Suga didn't go to Karasuno but to Seijoh & they met years later trough coincidence-------This is actually the first time I publish anything I write up, so please have mercy with me u.u''There might be occasional smut later in the story but I will always put a disclaimer in the title and manage the chapters in a way you can skip the dirty work without missing out on the story!





	1. Prologue: Life is a rollercoaster

**Author's Note:**

> Hey and thank you so much for clicking on this.
> 
> It is the first story I publish and It isn't that good but I am trying to improve my writing so I welcome every feedback!
> 
> \-----------
> 
> The idea for this story came in part from a Tumblr prompt about 'how would you say 'idiot' in flowers?'  
And then it spiralled.
> 
> I actually have everything mapped out by now but I am terrible with consistency so I don't know how long I'll be able to keep this up. I will try my best to give you a full story, but experience has shown, that I am a horrible person!

When he had been in High School, Sawamura Daichi had never expected that this would be his fate.

He wasn‘t quite sure what his dream job would have been but this certainly isn‘t it. Although in fairness, it wasn‘t bad. 

Yui was a good boss and he liked the gentle atmosphere of the shop - all things considered, it was probably way better than getting stuck in retail or being steam-cooked in some stuffy open-plan office or call room.

It was rather humid tough and at the end of the day, he was often soaked in sweat water. Even after 4 years, Yui had not grown tired of splashing him with the hoose and while their little squabbles at the end of the day were always fun, they were also always messy and wet and usually it was Daichi who got detached to mop it up.

If someone were to count it all together they would most certainly tell him to stop feeling down and start seeing what he had: An okay paid job with a dear friend, a flat across the street and nothing to worry about.

And yet he could not help but feel like he wasn‘t worth it. With everything that had happened, with everyone he had let down.

In good times when things were busy, he managed to forget it but when the shop grew quiet there was this tiny voice in the back of his head, persistently asking him „_what are you doing Sawamura?_“.

This was one of these moments and all Daichi wanted was to close the shop. He focused in and out of reality, vaguely staring at the clock above the door. _Ten more minutes, ten more minutes, nine more minutes_.

“Daichi? Hello, earth to Sawamura!“, a finger, snapping right next to his ear got him to jump back to the present.

“Huh?“, his reply came a little slow and Yui shook her head.

“I‘m leaving a bit early, okay?“, she poked him in the shoulder. “The back is all cleaned up, you just have to get the pots in. See you tomorrow!“

And gone she was like a little hurricane.

Daichi stared at the still swinging door and let out a deep sigh. The pots - right.

Well, he doubted that they … or well, he… would get any more customers so he might as well start bringing them in.

With heavy limbs, he dragged himself after Yui and stretched his tired bones. 

Michimiya Yui was a lot of things but fragile was not one of them! And yet she insisted that the big flowers were _far_ too heavy for her to lift and carry into the back of the shop. And so she had declared it Daichi's honour - it was saving him the trip to the fitness studio he supposed, so he really shouldn‘t complain. It was nice enough of her to employ his sorry ass.

He started with the tree peonies and the dahlias before moving on to the dolly with all the small pots on it. 

At least Yui had actually cleaned up and so all that was left to do was water the flowers. 

Carrying two large watering cans back into the main shop, he almost dropped them when suddenly the door burst open and once again Daichi's life took an unexpected and rather radical turn.

The man was panting and looking like he just jumped out of a driving car. 

“Oh thank goodness you are still open!“, he breathed with a wide smile.

“Well“, Daichi glanced at the clock. “For another minute I suppose“

The stranger straightened his back and pulled out a smartphone, lips turning down into a frown.

Daichi sat down the cans and made a snap decision. He wanted to go home - _badly_. But that frown was turning his stomach upside down and he had always been way too nice.

“Well, what do you need?“, he asked, straightening his apron.

Huge, soft brown eyes met his gaze and the silver-haired stranger gave him the most beaming smile.

“So… this might be _weird_“, he was scratching the back of his neck and his grin was turning a little bit evil - or flustered, Daichi couldn‘t tell. “I need a bouquet and I want it to say ‘_Fuck you_‘ but with a good portion of sexual tension! You know… in flower language… if you can do that?“

Daichi just stared. He had served a lot of people with a lot of different wishes and ideas for flowers but _this_ was a new one.

A smile came creeping onto his face. “I‘d have to look up a few things but I think I can manage“, he chuckled.

Suddenly he wasn‘t so fixated on going home anymore. He felt challenged and that for the very first time in what could very well be years. This was going to be interesting!

“Oh and… it isn‘t for me… it‘s for a friend“, the man added hastily, cheeks slightly pinking as Daichi turned to the back of the store.

“Okay“, Daichi couldn‘t help his smile as he walked into their little office and it grew even wider when he heard a muffled: “_Oh my god, why did I say that_?“, from the main room.

“Okay, so we have _geraniums_ for _stupidity_, _tuberose_ for _dangerous pleasures_, _meadowsweet_ for _uselessness_, _petunias_ for _resentment_ and last but not least a _coral rose_ for _desire_ paired with a _white camellia_ for _perfect beauty_. How does that sound?“, Daichi listed, looking up from his notepad and the heavy flower lexicon. 

He had to rummage through their stock at least four times to see what they even had at hand. It wasn‘t an ideal selection but the silver-haired man nodded solemnly.

“I like it - exactly what they need“, he smirked, the corners of his eyes crinkling and Daichi found himself staring at the beauty mark dancing under his left.

By now it was an hour past closing time and the shop was back into a mess with all the different flower pots arranged around the counter.

He couldn‘t help to notice that somehow the faded out blue of the man’s pullover had gotten a dark stain at the right sleeve.

“You… erm… you have a bit of dirt on your clothes“, he pointed out and the man went to twist and turn to find the spot until Daichi grinned out: “Sleeve… no the other“

The man looked at the stain for a moment, nose scrunched a little, then laughed and shrugged.

“Oh, well that's okay. It‘s my high school volleyball club pullover. This thing has seen _much_ worse“, he chuckled, watching Daichi bind the flowers into a bouquet.

“No way. I play volleyball too! I mean I _did_, back in High School. Which one did you go too?“, he looked up with a little disbelief.

“Seijoh born and raised!“, the man declared with a proud bump to his chest. „And not to boast but I was in the year that went to nationals“

Daichi stopped mid-movement.

“You were in the same year as _Iwaizumi Hajime_?“, he gaped.

“Jup“, the man laughed, then paused as if he was thinking about something. “_Oh my god_, Oikawa is not going to like that you asked about _Iwaizumi_ first“, he suddenly burst out, wheezing on the counter. „Can you say that again and I get it on audio?“

Daichi just stared at him, draped over the counter, laughing. Had that been so funny?

“You _are_ kidding right?“, he then asked.

“Not an inch. Why? Where did you play?“

“Karasuno“, he managed.

“Ohhh, next-door neighbour! Small world isn‘t it?“, he silver-haired looked at him beaming, chin resting in his hand and Daichi turned his attention back to wrapping the flowers. That was too much open friendliness for him to handle without warning.

And he was pretty certain his face was getting hot enough to fry an egg on his cheeks.

He turned the bouquet in his hands, inspecting it from every side before letting his gaze wander over the ribbons he had at hand.

Yui was better with these kinds of things, his hands were simply too large and calloused but he somehow managed to get it done decently.

“Looks perfect! How much do I owe you?“, the man asked him, getting up from the counter.

That was a good question. Daichi spend another three minutes looking up their catalogue and adding everything up before showing the man.

He pulled a wallet from his hoodie, but he didn‘t get further than just staring at it.

“Oh _shit_ \- do you take card?“, he sighed.

“Usually we do, but our machine was broken and hasn‘t gotten out of repair yet“

“Shu… erm… wait a sec, maybe I can“, the man began to dig in between the compartments but he was interrupted by a buzz.

Wallet jammed in his armpit he went digging for his phone.

“Yes? Matsun? - No, almost done - Yes - Yes - What do _you_ think? - By the way, do you have any cash? - Point taken, ask Maki - You guys are _useless_, you know that? - Kay, um, I‘ll figure something out. - Yup - Give me a minute. - Kay, see ya“

With a sigh he stowed his phone back into his pocket and made a contemplative face, mumbling something to himself.

“I am all out of cash… erm... can I, maybe leave you my card as insurance and come back tomorrow? I mean I can run to the ATM now but I don‘t want to keep you here any longer… so… that okay?“, he asked, his shoulders a little bit hunched as if embarrassed.

And suddenly Daichi remembered that he was working overtime and that now he had to clean… _again_!

“Sure, but… I don‘t know, don‘t you _need_ the card for the ATM? But you can leave your ID or… something…“, he contemplated.

“I need my ID tomorrow morning but don‘t worry, I have another one of these“, the silver-haired mused, sliding a _black American Express_ over the counter. Daichi swallowed hard. Well.

“So you are taking my flowers and leaving me your debt?“, he deadpanned.

Big brown eyes were looking at him for a second of uncomfortable silence, then the man burst back into laughter, his grin cheeky as he dramatically but a hand over his heart.

“_Oh no_, my evil shenanigans have been uncovered!“

Daichi smiled as he picked up the card. 

_Sugawara Koushi_.

Cute.

What?

No.

**NO**.

_ No? _

“So… it‘s okay then?“, Sugawara leaned against the counter, a smile still painting his lips.

“Yeah“, Daichi croaked out, suddenly a little too hoarse. “I‘ll put it in the safe“

The man's smile widened as he was rocking on his heels, bouquet in hand, giving Daichi a small wave.

“See you tomorrow then, _Sawamura Daichi_“, he smiled before skipping out of the shop.

The dark-haired stood there, struck by lightning, jaw dropped, brain smoking, the card still in hand and his stomach trampolining.

All while entirely unaware of the name tag, safely attached to his apron.

*******

“What in tarnation's name took you so _long_?“, Iwaizumi asked them, voice pressed and face red.

“You sure you don‘t need an ambulance?“, Matsukawa retorted from the driver seat and Sugawara rolled his eyes, leaning out of the open car window, handing his friend the flowers.

It was rather obvious that he had been pacing here for quite a while. In all fairness, they were a little too late. Okay maybe _a lot_ too late but: “_Relax_, you got this!“, Suga tried to squeeze his forearm. And it looked like it was actually helping.

That was until Hanamaki had to let down his window from the back seat and croon: “Yeah, worst thing that can happen is if he says ‘_yes_‘“

He was getting smacked by Suga.

“Ow, okay, Jesus, _chill!_ Just trying to take the edge off.“, the strawberry blonde harrumphed.

“You got this!“, Suga repeated, trying to give his most calming, reassuring smile and he could feel Matsun lean over from next to him adding a soft. “Go get him, big guy!“

Iwaizumi nodded and mumbled a pressed: “I got this. _I got this_…. okay.. _puh_… shit“, then closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Thanks guys. If the shithead calls, act surprised!“

“Naturally“, Matsukawa grinned.

“That's the attitude“, Suga reassured.

Iwaizumi smiled, then gave them a small and uncharacteristically _shy_ wave before heading back to the apartment block.

They looked after him until he was through the door and a bit longer, ignoring the fact that they weren‘t exactly parking where they were supposed to be.

“He‘s gonna bail“, Makki said into the silence.

This time nobody whacked him, but mainly because it turned out to be too uncomfortable to twist around in the seat.

“Oh shut up - love is beautiful bitch!“, Suga declared instead. And maybe he was smiling a little too much. Maybe, just maybe his mood was little too good and his brain still busy with processing his evening. But only maybe.

He saw Matsun grin in the corner of his vision as they pulled out on the street. “I just hope they don‘t break the bed“, he huffed, indicating their left turn.

“_Again_“, Suga and Makki added in unison.

*******

Despite having worked overtime and this being just a draining day in general, Daichi found himself unable to sleep.

He was tired, sure but no matter how much he was turning and twisting he just _couldn‘t_ trick himself into a comfortable position.

Just. _Great_.

_Fuck this_.

And with an exasperated groan, he swung his legs out of bed and lumbered into his tiny living room slash kitchen.

His apartment wasn‘t large but for just him, it was more than enough and considering it came with the job, it was a dream deal.

Turning on the TV he started to go through his refrigerator.

It was some boulevard press news show on and Daichi was only listening on half an ear. Something about a new season of _celebrity what not_ or something.

Not really enthusiastic about anything and with a pretty sour mood he just picked out the next best yoghurt and dumped a good fist of cornflakes into in.

Plopping down on his sofa he turned the volume up a little. Maybe is he listened to this long enough his brain would just cease function and he would be granted the sweet release of _death_. Sleep forever. _Yay_.

He yawned.

‘_Well Miko, I think it is now time for our last story and_ believe me, _my friends, we were so heartbroken to hear the news we had to put this last_‘

‘_She is not going to admit it but we both cried about_ six times _already and I have yet to figure out if it's joy or sadness_‘

Too much giggling and false sobs followed. 

Daichi crunched down on his snack.

‘_With, and this is_ _no joke friends, an_ apology_ to all boys and girls out there our favourite model, actor, former national volleyball player_‘, she does a deep and overdramatic inhale, ‘_and gender-rights icon_ Oikawa Tooru _has officially said his goodbyes to the world of bachelors_.‘

_‘I mean wow, we all had it coming but to know this one is off the market still hurts_.‘

‘_Not that we had any chance anyways honey, have you ever_ seen _the man? He‘s basically a single player in a league somewhere far above all heavens!_‘

Rolling his eyes Daichi sat up a little straighter. Like the man was haunting him today.

‘_But I assure you Yumi, this loss was so worth it. I mean this might be the_ single greatest couple on earth _and the fact that we are allowed to live at the same time is already more honour than any of us deserves!‘_

Okay… this was getting ridiculous. 

‘Iwaizumi Hajime _is the man of the hour, and good lord have you seen those_ abs_? If you have, you can die in peace.‘_

‘_The one and only OTP._‘

A heavy sigh and more giggles.

Daichi stopped mid-chew. It was almost sick how he had to agree.

Then again. If every relationship consisted solely of what people saw on Instagram it would be a whole different world. Maybe he could ask Sugawara tomorrow.

Or perhaps not. _Who knew_.

He watched the rest of the show, the two hostesses discussing the aspect of a proposal in private, how there wasn‘t a date for the wedding yet and whether or not it was a hazard to the public having two people with _this much_ sex appeal together in a closed space.

‘_Well, I for once am intrigued by that bouquet Yumi. Quite the move!_‘

‘_You are calling it, but girl, I can reassure you that is going to trend. _One way_ to pep up a proposal.‘_

Daichi changed the channel. If he had to hear another world about flowers today he was gonna put his fist through a wall.

His head plopped back with a sigh. Somehow he wasn‘t even one step closer to falling asleep.

He started to zap, never staying on a channel for long until he found a documentary about the boreal forest in Norway and somehow the pictures of tiny and clumsy wolf cubs made him drowsy enough to blackout right then and there, TV still running.

*******

Yui was late the next morning as Daichi opened the shop. It was usually like this because she lived a little outside and he across the street.

“Sorry, _traffic_, you know how it is!“, she tried to calm him, even though he wasn‘t mad at all. He was used to it and just shrugged.

“Good heavens, finally you are here. The _masses_ running down the shop, demanding flowers are just _too much_ to handle for a simple underling like me“, he deadpanned and made a stagy hand-wave towards the empty room.

She just rolled her eyes, disappearing into the office to get rid of her coat and purse and put on her work apron.

“Yesterday, there was this _crazy_ car coming down the street. Like: _super_ fast and fancy. Did you see it?“, she chimed and Daichi shook his head.

Only to remember she couldn‘t see him so he called: „No. What brand was it?“

“I don‘t know. But it was _hot as fuck_. Three guys and if my ass wouldn‘t be _so damn gay_ I swear I would have thrown myself at it!“, she came out of the backroom, a watering can in hand and started to do her morning chores, checking on the indoor flowers.

“The guys or the car?“, Daichi grinned.

“The car _of course_. If you have the money to drive a carriage like that you can afford to pay the people you run over with it. _Big time_.“, she laughed and Daichi couldn‘t help but grin into the daffodils he was arranging.

“By the way, when you were gone this guy came in yesterday in desperate need of flowers. Didn‘t have cash so he left his card as insurance. Just so you know in case he comes back and I‘m not here. I put it in the safe.“, he told her, pleased with his pot, moving on to the next.

“Doesn‘t he _need_ the card to get cash?“

“Said he has another because apparently, _one_ black American Express isn‘t enough!“

“Uh…_ loaded_. Maybe he was one of the hot car guys. Try to charge him extra. Like interest or something“, she outlined her scheme with a little whistle.

“You are plain evil“, Daichi rolled his eyes.

“If he needs flowers so bad it‘s his fault. Must have fucked up with his girlfriend“, she thought out loud with little compassion.

“I think it was for a friend“, Daichi informed her.

“Welp. Show him to me tough. I want to see the guy that can make Sawamura Daichi work overtime“, she elbowed him playfully on her way to refill the can.

Daichi resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. She was not _that_ wrong.

But Sugawara didn‘t show. Not that day and not the next.

And when Daichi closed the shop on Saturday he was almost sorry for his joke with the debt. Maybe he had really been scammed. Was the card even real? But _who the hell_ scams a flower shop? And a little, unknown one like theirs above all?

This was stupid.

_ He was stupid. _

So, so stupid.

  
  



	2. Chapter 1: Sunshine and rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mysterious stranger returns and he is not alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed I forgot to link my Tumblr so here it is now:  
[charlythelee](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/charlythelee)
> 
> I mainly post art there but If there are enough people (or if I should ever decide to post more of my writing) I will put teasers/announcements there.

It‘s a minute before their lunch break. Or more: _working_ lunch break. Considering it‘s too much work to close the shop for just half an hour and so they usually just eat some sandwiches, that one of them gets from a bistro down the street, behind the counter, hoping nobody comes in and sees them fooling around with the slices of tomato.

Today is Daichi's turn and he searches the back room for his wallet.

“Chicken Tikka as always?“, he calls into the front room, rummaging through his jacket. Where is that _damned thing_? He‘s certain he took it with him this morning.

„_Yui_?“, he calls again, as he gets no answer. He stops and _listens_. He can definitely hear her. Maybe she has a customer.

Oh well, If he can‘t find his damned cash he‘ll have to ask her for some anyways. As if being her charity case wasn‘t bad enough already.

He straightens up. Another laugh. This one is softer. He recognises it immediately.

Trying to be subtle he peers around the corner and there he stands.

Slim cut jeans, dark blue hoodie tied around his waist, white shirt, messenger bag slung over his shoulder and smiling so pure it should be illegal.

Daichi's stomach jumps.

“Hey _minion_, I am not paying you to gawk. Where is my sandwich?“, of course, Yui spots him despite standing with her back to him and makes a royal gesture.

Sugawara smirks gently.

“You came back“, Daichi says and a second later wants to drown himself in one of the buckets. _What the actual hell brain_?

“Of course. My life wouldn‘t be the same without my debts“, the silver-haired man muses and slaps his bag.

“Apparently if I want my sandwich I‘ll have to get it myself“, Yui sighs and pokes Daichi in the rib, whispering a cheeky: “_Go for it, tiger_!“

He turns bright red within the second, swatting at her weakly.

“You have a funny understanding of ‘_tomorrow_‘“, Daichi tries to move the subject, walking up behind the counter, the other following him on the other side.

“I _was_ there the next day but you were already closed“, he tries to defend himself.

“Try showing up during opening hours?“, Daichi suggests with a mocking grin and the man huffs.

“This isn‘t exactly my part of town okay“, he laments. _Cute_.

_Zip it Sawamura_.

“Then why come here? As far as I am informed this isn‘t the only flower shop in town“, Daichi shuffles through all the notes to find the mans receipt.

“_Hey_, don‘t scare off the customers!“, Yui smacks him on the biceps and puts the American Express on the counter, before giving them a quick wave and disappearing out the door.

“_No_, Mr. but it was late and you can thank the random old lady on the subway who saw me frantically googling flower shops“, Sugawara solemnly tells him, then takes his card back and opens his wallet, returning two bills to Daichi.

“That‘s right. For the hassle“

Daichi tries not to stare. It‘s _a lot_ of tip.

“Thanks… did… did your friend like the flowers?“, he asks and the man's face turns into a mischievous smile.

“It was _perfect_. Really. Thank you for doing it despite the short notice“, with the last words his smile turns earnest.

“It was an interesting request“, Daichi replies honestly.

“To be honest I got it from a _Tumblr_ post. But it was just too good an idea not to go for it. And they deserved something special“, Sugawara chuckles.

Daichi hums as a response and the man straightens the strap of his bag.

Neither of them knows what to say more. _Usually_, this is the point where he wishes the customer a nice day but somehow he doesn‘t want Sugawara to leave.

“So umn… what position did you play? In volleyball I mean?“, Daichi tries. 

“Oh erm, in Middle School I was a setter but in High School, I was mainly warming the bench. Kinda doomed to happen when you play on the same position as _Oikawa Tooru_“, the man shrugs and Daichi suddenly feels like he choose a bad topic. But ditching the conversation now would be weird. And rude.

“What‘s that like. Playing with someone like him“, he gives in to his curiosity.

“It‘s… _interesting_. I mean it is a spectacle to watch him work his magic but it‘s also _exhausting_ because everyone assumes you are just as good and when you are not, they are disappointed“, Sugawara thinks out loud, his fingers drumming on the counter in a fascinating rhythm. 

“Sounds _frustrating_“, Daichi tries his best to convey sympathy.

Sugawara's lips quirk up. “Oh, it was _hella_ frustrating! But it‘s not his fault so I can‘t be mad at him. That‘s just how it works. And to be honest, since we didn‘t have a manager maybe it was a good thing that I was free. We were quite the chaotic bunch“, he laughs.

Daichi grins too. “Tell me about it. Our second years were a hand full. I am surprised my year graduated without any heart attacks“, he huffs.

“What position did you play?“, Sugawara relaxes against the counter.

“Captain“, he says, before realising that isn’t a position and hastily continuing, “I mean wing spiker and opposite hitter. But I was always more comfortable with playing defence over attack“

“Ah an _allrounder_“, Sugawara grins and Daichi doesn‘t know why that feels like a compliment but he can‘t help the warmth rising in his chest.

“Only out of necessity but yeah“, he tries to play it down.

“Didn‘t Karasuno beat nationals too?“, the silver-haired asks after a little pause.

“We did, but that was a year after I graduated. Apparently they got a bunch of really talented first-years“, Daichi shrugs.

“Sounds _frustrating_“, Sugawara muses and Daichi can’t help a little chuckle. 

“Saying I wasn‘t at least a little pissed about having missed it, would be a lie. But sometimes things just don‘t work out the way you want them to“, he says and he tries not to sound too bitter. What an accurate summary of his life.

Sugawara makes a well-meaning little sound. “Would be too easy if it did, I guess“

They fall silent.

Daichi swallows hard. _Way to kill a mood_.

“So umn…“, but before he can say something stupid Yui bursts back into the shop.

“I forgot to ask what you wanted so I just got you cheese and ham“, she blurts, cheeks rosy from the unusually fresh mid-September air.

She rips both of them back into reality and Sugawara straightens the strap of his bag again.

“So umn, I‘ll leave you to your lunch then. Thanks again and have a nice day“, he says and turns to leave.

Yui sends Daichi an_ intense_ look, he doesn‘t know what to do with.

The door rings then falls shut, without Daichi having said anything.

He is still torn between looking at Yui and looking at the door. He decides to deal with the former.

“_What_?“, he asks and he does not at all like how small his voice sounds.

“The _actual_ hell Daichi? **GO**, and don‘t come back before you asked him out for a coffee!“, she yells, gesturing at the door.

“I.. _what?_“, yes, his voice is definitely too high. „I can‘t do that. I mean… I… _I don‘t_… I can‘t… what if… _you can‘t know that_!“, he blurts back because he is not having this conversation again.

“My god, you, are you _blind_? Even I realised how he was looking at you“, she slams her face down into her palm, squashing his sandwich.

Daichi doesn‘t reply. Suddenly he is not hungry in the least. His chest in awfully tight and he chokes out a pressed: “_I can‘t_“ before turning to the back room.

He needs silence.

“_Daichi_“, a soft hand on his arm. He halts. He doesn‘t want to, oh he wishes he could just tear his arm free and run. _Run _and_ hide _and_ give in_ to this miserable feeling of his. But he _can‘t_ refuse Yui. That is the power she always had over him.

“I‘m sorry I yelled like that. I just… _look_. It‘s been _seven_ years and you need to move on. And he seems nice“, she tries, voice still soft and squeezes his forearm.

“It‘s _not_ that easy“, he grits out and she lets go, well knowing it is pointless. After all, this was not the first time she tried to get him back in the game.

But he _can‘t_. It‘s not like he doesn‘t _want_. He just…

Daichi likes to think of himself as a man, drifting somewhere on the pitch-black ocean, held aloft only by a floating tire, his limbs refusing to work like he wants them too, unwilling to move, leaving him to the will of the currents and all ropes of help slipping through his numb fingers. Four years ago Yui had forcibly tied her rope around his chest and started to pull. And in all fairness, she had gotten him a great deal closer to the shores of sanity. But these last few pulls, this _one last act_ of getting himself back together even she had not managed. And so he was drifting, an arm's length from a normal life and in all honesty, not willing to make this last step.

He knew it was beyond pathetic, childish and immature that he_ still_ refused it but he was quite okay with where he was now. It was far from satisfying but it was better than where he had been, in _every_ way.

They don‘t talk for the rest of the day. Yui tries to apologise for being pushy by giving him the space he needs, but subtlety has never been her strong side. So they just work and in the evening Daichi even volunteers to close the shop. Lifting the pots calms his thought, gets him to focus on the simple things like not breaking off any petals or twigs.

*******

_Exactly_ seven steps past the shop window is how many he manages. Then Sugawara stands still. 

Thinks.

That's_ not_ good.

_Not a bit_, no.

His stomach has developed its own mind, jumping, twisting, turning in happy little loops around itself. He feels warm and his brain just won‘t stop _thinking_.

This is _horrible_.

Suga is used to his quick overemotional episodes, where his brain shuts down and he just lets whatever or whoever he is getting into, take him along.

This.. _warm_ kind of feeling leaves him jittery and helpless.

Why? _Why always him_?

He turns around. 

Two steps. _Two steps_ back towards the shop, then he stands still once more.

This is a_ bad_ idea.

He _wants_ to go back. He _shouldn‘t_ have left like this.

Maybe he can ask Sawamura out for a coffee.

_No_. Horrible plan, _horrible, horrible, horrible plan_.

He doesn‘t even know if he is about to walk into a brick wall or not. He can‘t handle a rejection.

He is bad with getting ditched when a relationship doesn‘t really mean anything to him. Getting dumped by someone he has actual feelings for _will_ break him.

And he though with his lifestyle he should be used to getting shot down and left aside by now.

But _he isn‘t_.

His heart is just too soft.

_What is he doing_?

Suga wrings his hands, digs his fingers into the strap of his bag.

He _should_ go back. 

His stomach seems to be pulled back to the shop, trying to get him along. 

His heart tries to flood him with as much pain as possible, reminding him that this _will only_ hurt.

_Another step_ towards the shop, then he turns and _runs_.

He runs two blocks until he is out of breath and his head is swimming a little less.

Pulling out his phone Suga thinks. 

_Types_. 

Sends.

He can‘t go back there _now_. But there is something else he can do to maybe earn a few bonus points.

He puts the phone to his ear. Oikawa lets him hang a little, probably still sulking, before he picks up.

“I reconsidered. Check your messages“, he tries to sound confident. Suddenly he regrets. But there is no way back.

_You are doing a good thing_, he tells himself as he hangs up without waiting for his friend's response.

He doesn‘t know why, but all the way to the subway station he imagines how this will play out and he knows he is in for it _bad_, when the best possible option he can come up with, is Daichi smiling at him the next time he comes to the shop. _No hot and filthy sex_, just these tender, slightly chipped lips quirking up into a warm smile. 

_Damn Sugawara, get your act together_!

With the image in mind, he skips down the stairs and checks his watch. 

This is gonna be a good day._ He can feel it._

***

“_Quick_, get your bag, I think it‘s an epidemic“, Maki yells with pretend panic, when Suga drops into their booth, a still resting smile on his face.

“What bag?“, Matsukawa tilts his head in that, _just so typical_, Matsun kind of way.

“You know, your _doctor's bag_ or whatever the shit it‘s called“, Hanamaki gestures over his smoothie, then adds, “doctors in movies _always_ have bags“, as if that settles it.

Matsun doesn‘t say anything. He grew used to this kind of conversation long ago. _Time to get a bag then._

Suga's smile only grows wider and warmer as he leans over and steals a long slurp from his friends drink, before plopping back into his spot with a satisfied sigh.

“You_ are_ in an awfully good mood today“, Matsun says just the tiniest bit curious.

“That illegal now?“, Suga retorts.

“No, but I do want to know if it has anything to do with why you called Oikawa today!“, Maki leans forward, narrowing his eyes and sticking his tiny umbrella into Suga's face like he is threatening him.

“That illegal now?“, Suga recurs.

“Depends. Because _I_ am having lunch with him and then _you call_ and all of a sudden he starts smirking like the little shit he is. And he _did not stop_ the entire lunch, nor all the way back to his flat“, the strawberry-blond clarifies.

Suga's smile grows wider.

“God, it _is_ an epidemic“, Matsun deadpans.

“Oh zip it, you two! I just had a _wonderful_ morning and a _wonderful_ midday and I _might_ have slipped a certain piece of information my dear friend was interested in obtaining“, Suga now plain out pulls Hanamaki's drink from under his nose and starts slurping it provocatively and not without a defiant smirk.

“You told him where the flower shop is“, Matsun says and it is not a question.

“My _sweet lord_ Koshi, you just doomed some innocent girl to a very sudden and possibly fatal heart attack“, Maki sighs, then reaches to his right and grabs Matsun's smoothie for himself, leaving their lamp post of a friend to miserably stare at the empty table in front of him.

Suga gives in to the sad eyes and slides him Maki's drink, then waves over a waitress.

“I _did not doom_ any innocent girl _to anything_“, he declares, before he orders.

The waitress gives him a _look_ and Maki snorts. Matsukawa is a little more subtle but his lips twitch upwards as well and he uses the little distraction to switch his glass with Maki's, getting everyone back to their original order.

Suga just hopes Daichi's colleague is not part of the Tooru fanclub or he _might_ have to redeem this statement.

But Hanamaki is not as dumb as he looks and lets out a little, maybe too pointed, gasp.

“Oh my god, _of course_. It was a _guy_ in the shop“, he snickers behind his hand, “You are making _that_ kind of face and don‘t even try to deny it!“, he smirks and slams it down on the table, making the sugar jar jump and the people next isle turn around.

Matsun tilts his head, stronger this time and his ever so knowing eyes are drilling into Suga, who instantly averts the intense yet gentle gaze.

While Maki is already on the right lead, he knows very well that _nobody_ is better at reading him than Matsun. And he knows that only one look will be enough for his brother to know what is really going on. 

It‘s probably too late to hide it anyway but if Matsun knows that there is this little but significant difference to his thoughts this time, he doesn‘t say anything.

“You sure this is a good idea?“, is the only thing he asks, all honest and without mockery.

“I just hope so. If he does have a heart attack I‘ll call you“, Suga mumbles, infinitely thankful for his arriving drink, so he can conveniently continue to avoid looking at either of them.

“I‘m a _neurologist_, not a cardiologist“, Matsun deadpans.

“I believe in you“, he muffles through the straw.

Meanwhile, Maki is starting to get the most shit-eating grin and Suga has to kick him under the table.

“And don‘t even_ think_ about bothering him, Takahiro! I know where you _live_!“, he glares at his friend.

Maybe that would be more of a threat if he wouldn‘t be inhaling a Pina Colada. _Solely_ to make sure he kicks him again.

***

Daichi is jumpy for another two days.

He eventually finds his wallet when he starts on their purchasing list and monthly balance sheet.

Every time the door opens his heart skips a beat. And he is sure he is starting to go _insane_ because every once in a while he thinks he can hear a soft laugh and the steady, musical drumming of fingers against the counter.

But he knows it‘s just in his head. 

Knowing this does _not_ make it better. 

It does not keep his hands from getting sweaty every time someone walks in the store.

_What if it's Sugawara_?

He is rather convinced he will have to commit harakiri should he ever come across the man again. _Especially_ in Yui's presence.

And so he is thankful for the end of the month and his lists. Accounting and purchase are his thing after all. Or at least they used to be.

Now he just… does them, torn between the guilty little stabs that tell him: _This isn‘t your limit, go get something great done_!, and the persistent voice that is soothing him: _You are helping a friend, it was not for nothing!_

He sits in their cramped little office and goes trough bills, card payments end expenses, typing away at his old laptop, letting the numbers flow and chewing down half a box of pencils.

Another habit he never managed to get rid of, but it is just way to effective in helping him concentrate to actively do something against it.

And so when the bell above the door dings, he takes longer than usual to look up from his monitor. _Oh yeah_. 

Yui is out getting their lunch.

“Just a second!“, he calls and saves his Excel sheet, pushing all the loose papers together and safely storing them away in a transparent foil case.

He shuts his laptop and pulls the apron over his head, tying the bow while walking into the main room.

There are two men, one of them leans against the counter, typing at his phone, short dark hair ruffled, buff but in an appealing and well proportioned kind of way.

The other one is taller and only half facing Daichi, seemingly intrigued by a bunch of hyacinths. He has a posture radiating confidence and even though he is wearing a cap and sunglasses neither is helping to disguise his _piercing_ gaze or the flawless, brown, waves of fluffy hair falling into his neck.

Daichi stops mid movement, his brain unable to process _both_ tying a bow behind his back and _why on earth he has Iwaizumi Hajime and Oikawa Tooru in his shop_.

“Uhhhhhh“, he manages graciously.

Whatever else he might have so eloquently issued in the foreseeable future, he doesn‘t get to go there.

“_Hah!_ I _told_ you this was useless!“, Oikawa snorts, ripping the cap of his head and stuffing into his jacket.

Then he runs his hand through his hair and shoving the glasses up, somehow making it look even _more_ flawless. “I hate these things!“, he mumbles mainly to himself, but not without a pointed look at his partner.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes to the moon and back.

Then he puts his phone away, looking at Daichi.

“Hm“, it's a neutral sound but to Daichi, it somehow sounds like his entire existence is being judged. “So, _you_ are the flowers guy, huh?“

“I… _am_?“, Daichi can‘t pin down if that was an insult or not. His brain is still stuck somewhere at step one - _breathing_.

“_Obviously_“, Oikawa turns at him and - scratch Iwaizumi - _that_ is a judgy look.

“_Ignore_ him!“, the shorter of the two sighs, as Daichi just stares back. Suddenly he feels very small. He doesn‘t like it.

“You made the bouquet, didn‘t you?“, Iwaizumi asks again and now, very slowly, Daichi inhales and the mechanisms behind his forehead begin turning, clicking together piece by piece.

_ He needs to do some apologies! _

“Oh shit - he _does_ know you!“, is all he can say, voice breathy. 

The two men exchange a look.

“_Obviously_“, Oikawa replies, but Iwaizumi hold up his hand to effectively mute his partner - his _fiancé_ \- and shakes his head.

“He didn‘t tell you, did he?“, he asks, somewhat exhausted but not without his lips turning into a small grin.

Daichi just shakes his head. He does _not_ trust his voice.

“Oh, you _gotta_ be shitting me!“, Oikawa exclaims, throwing his hands in the air and Iwaizumi begins to chuckle. “I am uninviting him!“

“_The hell_ you gonna do - that is my best man!“, Iwaizumi smirks, now definitely shaking with amusement.

“So.. he _does_ know you! You _are_ friends!“, Daichi _needs_ to hear it.

“Pretty much yeah. What did you think?“, green eyes glint at him and suddenly Daichi feels like a mouse under a hawks watchful gaze.

“I….um… he _told_ me he played for Sejoh. That you were in the same year. But you know… that doesn‘t mean you _know_ someone, you know?“, Daichi tries to explain. „I thought maybe he was…“

“..._boasting_? Hah - „, Iwaizumi barks out a laugh, “There are between fifty and a hundred and twenty people he would boast with knowing before getting to _that one_“, he grins, poking his thumb in Oikawa's direction, who gives them an offended huff.

Daichi just stares. They stare back.

He realises he should say something.

“I am…_ wow_. I am sorry. This is just - _really unexpected_! You were like _my idol_ in High School and… _wow_. I… did _not_ expect that… I... I said that already, didn‘t I!?“, his tongue is moving faster than his brain can supply him with words as he continues staring at Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi blinks at him, equally taken aback. Then he smiles and this time it's warm and a little flustered.

“Hold on, _wait_ a second. I just want to make sure I understand this correctly?“, Oikawa pushes himself between them and leans over the counter, narrowed eyes only a hand away from Daichi's face. 

The urge to push him away is imminent but the man is yanked back by his collar and a gruff: “I told you to _behave_, asshat“, snaps through the room before Daichi can do something very stupid - _like punching Oikawa Tooru_.

“_Iwa-Chan_, I just want to make sure he doesn‘t have a stroke or some… _ow_, don‘t just smack me!“

And so Daichi is left, standing behind the counter with A-class prominence squabbling in his outskirt-of-town flower shop like two eighty-year-old women feeding the same ducks in the park.

“Uhhhhhhhh“, he lifts his hand pacifyingly.

What _the hell_ is he supposed to do?

_How does Sugawara live with this_?

And _what in the general vicinity of a fuck_ is going on?

The door opens and Yui balances in two cups of cappuccino and their lunch.

“Remember that car, I told you about the other day - you are _not_ going to believe this but there is an _even hotter one_ right out…“, her jaw drops, “..._side_“

And the cups slide through her fingers.

Oikawa is _fast_. In an instant he has jumped across the shop, hands gripping Yui's tightly, saving the beverages from dropping to the lavender and white tiles.

“Careful there“, he speaks softly.

Other than Daichi, Yui _does_ smack him at the sudden proximity.

With a little, short circuit scream she brings her foot up and kicks him in the shin _hard_, jumping back and smashing into the door, spilling half of one cup over her thigh anyways.

The next ten minutes are an unholy litany of Yui apologizing ‘_I am so sorry, you scared me, holly shit, I am so, so so, so, so so sorry, really_‘ after and while dumping cold water over the hot coffee stain, Oikawa telling her he has gotten hit harder, _‘it’s okay, you should be proud of that kind of kick tough‘_, Iwaizumi telling them the same and furthermore asking ‘_you don‘t have video surveillance right? I am going to sell you my firstborn for that tape‘_ and Daichi doing his best, not to simply implode.

In the end, Oikawa gets a chair and manages to talk Yui into lending him her company, _somehow_ calming her down enough they don‘t need to call an ambulance.

Daichi fires up their old coffee machine and apologises for the cheap filter coffee, somehow mad that he is embarrassed about it.

“Don‘t sweat it, I don‘t like that milky stuff anyways“, Iwaizumi reassures him and in the end, they settle by the counter. 

But not before Daichi turns down the blinds and switches their window sign to ‚closed‘. They don‘t need _another_ incident like that.

“So, _Karasuno_“, Iwaizumi tilts his head thoughtfully. Somehow they started talking about volleyball. 

“Your libero was pretty impressive, _Nishinoya Yuu_, quite the guy I heard..“, Oikawa chimes in, like is reciting a recipe. „You were envied in all of Miyagi for your, admittedly, very pretty manager. _Although_ I have to point out, Koushi could have easily won that one, _if_ he had taken the job officially!“, he fixes Daichi with an interested glare. 

Like someone looks at a specimen they are about to dissect. Interested but in a terrifying way. “You lost against the iron wall two years in a row, didn‘t you?“

Daichi stares. All he can manage is nod and a surprised: “Ten out of ten“

Oikawa huffs, seemingly pleased with himself and turns back to Yui, saying something about if she likes cars.

Daichi looks at Iwaizumi. “Does he…“

“..._nope_. Or at least not in a recognisable pattern. Some things just stick, I guess“, the other shrugs and sips his coffee.

Daichi still can‘t quite determine what he is more baffled by: that he is actually_ talking to Iwaizumi Hajim_e or that even after all these years he is still fanboying _this_ hard.

“You still play?“, the taller man asks him.

For a second Daichi can‘t pin down the question, then he remembers what they were previously talking about. “Um, no. I did in college but I didn‘t find a team I fit in… _afterwards_“, he manoeuvres through that minefield.

Iwaizumi hums. “New teams are a hassle“, he agrees.

“Do you?“, Daichi returns the question, a little uncertain if it‘s okay to ask about the man's private life.

But Iwaizumi just grins and nods. “Jup, every other week, we try to get a couple of friends and old teammates together. 

“_Iwa-Chan_“, long arms snake around his neck. “We have a schedule“, Oikawa hums, without much spirit.

Daichi searches for Yui's gaze. She passes them on her way to the back, her eyes clearly saying: _I am going to dump my head into a bucket of ice water and when I come back and they are still here I will faint_. 

He desperately tries to convey her: _Don‘t leave me alone, help, Yui!_

But she just raises her eyebrow: _Your customer, your problem._

Now that is just _cold_.

“Kay, so. Can I… you know, do something for you?“, he clears his throat, turning back to the two men, now leaning against his counter.

You got this Sawamura, just try to imagine any other people. _They are just customers_. Be professional.

He straightens his shoulders and flexes his fingers beneath the counter, releasing some tension. And oddly enough, he can actually feel himself calm down. Getting back to his usual self.

“Yes, yes you can“, Oikawa says and looks at his fiance. “Since you were oblivious of Ko-Chans nefarious plans, we have decided that you can be trusted and…“

Iwaizumi takes over. “… we liked the flowers, and since we are going to need a lot more, we came here“

“You are so _insensitive_, Hajime! We don't just need ‘_more flowers_‘, we need _decor_ for our _marriage_!“, Oikawa huffs with an eye roll.

Daichi swallows hard. Professional, _professional, panic._

“Wow and… okay so I will certainly not deny you, _but_ I have to get my boss back in here because I am not sure just the two of us can handle that much“, he responds, pointing to the back of the store.

“It isn‘t gonna be that big of a thing, don‘t worry. We‘ll keep things small, fifty people max“, Iwaizumi says, with a soothing tone.

It helps a little.

“Do you already have a date or a venue?“, Daichi asks, reaching for a notepad.

“As of now, the plan is end of January. The venue, we have a couple of ideas for but we‘ll know for safe in about two weeks tops“, the man explains, and Daichi nods.

His head is already working. _Time, planning, orders, volume_.

He taps the pen down on the paper a couple of times before he slowly answers: „I _think_ we can do that, but I still have to ask my boss“

“No problem, I can write you down my number and then you can just shoot me a text when you discussed it“, Iwaizumi grins and Daichi hands him notepad and pen.

“Will do“, he says as he takes both back and puts the note safely in the register. He does _not_ want to lose that number.

“Cool“, the man reaches over and offers Daichi his hand.

His fucks forsaken stomach plummets as he takes it. Iwaizumi has a firm but friendly shake and Daichi gives it all the confidence he has left in his sorry ass.

They turn to leave with a wave, like actual people, Daichi is still processing that while feeling like the last idiot on earth - _of course they are just people you imbecile_ \- but Oikawa turns at the door at looks back at him, eyes an intense brown, taking Daichi apart, analysing every part of him, making his skin crawl.

“Say: Ko-Chan, was he here on his own?“, he asks and while the question seems harmless, there is a certain threat behind it.

Daichi nods. “He was alone, but...“, he hesitates as he remembers the call. Oikawa lifts his eyebrow and Daichi decides that keeping this information for himself is _not_ worth being impaled alive by those eyes. “… I think someone was waiting outside for him“, he finishes.

“Hm. Caught any names?“

Daichi thinks. “Something with ‘M‘ I think. Why?“

Oikawa smiles in the most predatory way possible. “Just trying to determine who is going to eat my red shells at game night“, then he gives Daichi a nod, pulls down his sunglasses and vanishes out the door.

The first thing he does is sit down. 

He is certain he just lost a good 20 years from stress alone.

_ He has no idea what is coming for him. _

*******

“Use the door or take the subway“, Iwaizumi gruffs as Oikawa just hops into the open convertible.

“Aw_ Iwa-Chan_, isn‘t this _my_ car?“, he croons.

“Then drive it, _Shittykawa_“, the shorter lets on the engine and the custom painted, bright orange _Porsche 718 Boxster Spyder_ purrs like the lioness she is.

Oikawa leans back, lets the feeling cruise through his body as he relaxes into the butter-soft leather.

“You _know_ I like it way better when you drive“, he hums but also leans over to press a quick peck against his partner's cheek.

Iwaizumi just makes a little grumpy noise but Oikawa knows him far too well and feels that he is not actually mad at him.

“You are such a _brat_ sometimes“, because when he speaks, his face has already softened. “And that was your bad leg. Don‘t try to hide it“

“_Ahhhh_“, so that is what this is about. Oikawa fastens his seatbelt and grants the little shop one last look as they pull into the street. “It‘s not that bad. Plus it was my _shin_ and not actually the knee, so don‘t worry“

Iwaizumi acknowledges that with another humpf and they drive in silence for a few minutes, letting the last rays of September sun and the seat heating warm them.

“So, what do you think?“, Hajime asks him as they have to stop at a red light.

This residential area is quiet. Quite the weird place to put up a shop.

“Of the _place_ or the _guy_?“, Tooru can‘t help but ask with a smirk.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “You know that if Matsun makes _that_ kind of face it‘s serious! And Suga is doomed to get into trouble“

“And yet, you gave him the job. So what are you asking me for? Already having regrets, _Iwa-Chan_?“

“_No_. I am just not a total jerk and _actually_ interested in your opinion“, Iwaizumi puts the gear in a _little_ too harsh.

Tooru knows how he is feeling. They tend to get a little protective over their small one. Not as much as Matsukawa, but _still_.

“Something solid will do him good and Flowers Guy seems to be _at least_ a decent human being. Little bit of a weird taste in idols tough“, he can‘t resist that ad on.

Iwaizumi swats him, without taking his eyes off the street like it‘s second nature. _It is_.

“Oh _zip it, Oprah_! Maybe it is nice to be appreciated for _myself_ and not for being your plus one, once in a while. No need to be jealous“, he huffs.

Oikawa rolls his eyes, but he doesn‘t say anything. They went down _that_ rabbit hole often enough already and not always have they come out unscarred. 

He might be a tease but he knows when the possibility of ruining Hajimes mood is not worth it.

So he just reaches over, gently squeezing a muscular thigh and mumbling: “You know you are _always_ my number one. Not only, but _especially_ when you wear my old jersey“

The blush is instant and Oikawa snickers into his retrieved hand.

“No but seriously, do you think the shop will do or are you just trying to be nice? Because I do love Suga, but I do _not_ like him enough for his messy love life to get in the way of _my wedding_!“, Oikawa exclaims then, dead serious.

“Yes you _do_“

“Okay, _maybe_. But _still_, If not absolutely inevitable I would like our party to be the primary focus here“

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes very audibly and then thinks.

“I think they can handle, and if they _can‘t_, I believe them to be honest enough to say so“, Iwaizumi finally answers and Oikawa hums in agreement.

It was indeed a very nice shop, he had not expected that. Absolutely wasted in a residential area this far from the centre of town.

*******

This time Suga times his visit _very carefully_. In fact, he takes his entire day off to make _absolutely_ sure he doesn‘t fuck this one up.

He gets to open the door about half a foot wide before everything goes to shit.

“If you are hiding any more prominence somewhere in your bag please tell me now, so I can _run_“, says a voice directly behind him and Suga jumps, with a little yip.

He turns around and looks at one Sawamura Daichi, cooking his head with a raised eyebrow.

“Uhhhhh“, Suga has an imminent blackout.

_ Why was he here again? _

Oh, right.

“All alone“, he croaks out, trying to keep his face from blushing. “And I am really sorry“, he blurts before he can stop himself.

_Always_ cleaning up his friends' messes.

“For what?“, Daichi asks, then he reaches over Sugas head.

His heart skips and now he is definitely turning bright red. 

_ Damn it Koushi, you are not in High School anymore! _

The door in his back opens and Sawamura smiles at him, shyly.

“Little cold out here“, he explains and with a weak nod, Suga walks backwards into the shop.

„I, _erm_, you know. Just wanted to check. Oikawa can be… he has… how do I say this,_ urgh..._ He can have a certain _effect_ on his surrounding that is not always pleasant. And Iwaizumi tends to yell a lot so, _yeah_. Just wanted to make sure they behaved“, he mumbles, his voice getting quieter and quieter by the word.

“There_ was_ some yelling involved“, Daichi admits and walks past him. “So I hope you are not on a schedule because you owe us a little bit of an explanation“

Suga nods, his knees feel very weak.

“And Yui is going to insist!“, he warns, just as his coworker sticks her head into the room, finds Suga and points her finger at him.

“You. _Talk. Now_!“, she squeaks excitedly.

Koushi is very certain he can see Sawamura roll his eyes and his gaze darts between the two of them, calculating his chances to just turn and bolt.

But If he does, then he can just as well throw himself under a car at the next chance he gets. He came here to check if his friends were an embarrassment, so he himself _isn’t allowed_ to chicken out now.

“Talk about what?“, he asks.

“_Ehejdskbvdjdfbfd everything_!?“, the woman throws her hands up in the air. “Because I _kicked_ Oikawa _fucking_ Tooru and have been waiting for my assassination the past three days now, so please make it quick or release me!“

Suga halts. “You kicked him? Where? If it's not in the nuts I will be disappointed“, he smirks.

“Sorry, shin“, she says and Sugas stomach _drops_. Disappointment is not what he feels.

“_Shin_“, he echoes weakly, a little bit of fear collecting in his chest. “Which one?“, he asks.

The woman pulls a face. First confused, then thoughtful. „I don‘t really know anymore, I think _right side_“, she sais, mimicking the motion in an attempt to remember correctly.

Suga's face must say enough because she instantly looks as terrified as he feels.

“_Why_?“, her voice is a little too high.

“_That's_ his bad one“, he chokes out, desperately digging in his memory. He _just_ saw Oikawa _yesterday_ and he didn‘t notice a limp or anything. _If_ he had been wearing the supporter, Suga at least didn‘t notice.

But as always Iwaizumi is usually the more reliable indicator on what is up with Tooru and he seemed _relatively_ chill. So no drama.

Suga sighs, a little relieved.

“Bad shin?“, Daichi asks now, looking mainly confused.

“Bad _knee_“, Suga corrects him and bites his lip. “But he seemed fine yesterday so I think it‘s okay. Was just worried. Iwaizumi likes to get really grumpy when Tooru hurts himself. Like - _extra_ grumpy“, he sighs some more and shakes his head. “But they were as normal as they can be, so it‘s no biggie“, _I hope_ he adds in silence.

It does _not_ seem like Yui is reassured by that. She has turned a little white.

“Wait, wasn‘t that the reason why he had to drop out of the national team?“, she croaks out and Suga nods.

“But it‘s a _long_ story and that knee has been a thorn pretty much ever since I met him“, Suga explains. 

“Did he have an accident?“, Daichi asks, setting a little plastic bag on the counter and Yui goes to check it out.

“As far as I know when he was little, but it wasn‘t _bad_. It just turned out to be a problem when he started to overdo it with his training. And it spiralled _pretty_ badly from there on“, Suga waves his hand in a small circle.

“_Ouch_“, the dark-haired man pulls a face.

“Yeah. I can tell you it was a_ big_ drama. Oikawa is not the kind of person to stomach setbacks well. I am really surprised nobody got murdered“, he shakes his head, shivering a little at the memory, “But that reminds me: We have a murder agreement so don‘t worry. Nobody coming for you“, he tries to ease the atmosphere with a grin.

Yui exhales, but Daichi just makes a confused face and whispers “_Murder agreement_?“

Suga huffs with a smile. “Yes: Murder agreement. Second only to the cheese arrangement and the bowtie disclosure“

It doesn‘t answer any questions but at least Yui laughs a little.

“Well, if my murder is prioritized less than _cheese and bowties,_ I think I really don‘t have _that much_ to worry about, do I?“

Sawamura leans against the counter and looks Suga up and down as if he was trying to make up his mind.

Suga has ants on his skin and caterpillars in his belly.

“So“, the man starts, “You _do_ know them“

And somehow his tone is a little too dismissive for Suga to ignore the familiar pinch in his neck.

“_Yes_“, he snaps back. “I do!“

Daichi blinks at him, staggered. “I just, sorry, I was just a little sceptical when you first mentioned them and - I wanted to apologise for that“, he stumbles over his words.

“_Oh_“, the hot and annoyed feeling leaves Suga just as quickly as it flamed up within him. “Oh, sorry. It‘s just… nevermind, it's petty“, he looks at the tiles, biting his lip.

“People only ask about him, that's it, isn‘t it?“, Daichi asks, and his voice is somehow incredibly soft.

Suga can‘t hold in _all_ the bitterness when he explains: „It‘s just annoying on the long term. But I can understand why people do it so - _yeah_, just gets a little exhausting“

“Well then, who _else_ do you know, that is not Oikawa Tooru“, Daichi muses and Suga can‘t help but huff amusedly. 

“_A lot_ of people“, he grins.

“_Like_?“

“If you were already taken this aback by Iwaizumi and Tooru, I better not tell you or you are going to have a heart attack“, he smiles, slyly. “Gotta keep _some_ secrets“

Sawamura rolls his eyes

“Alright then _mystery man_“, he gives up and Yui shoots them both a look. 

Suga knows instantly that she has seen right through him - in more than one way.

And so he turns to look around the shop, anywhere_ else_ than the counter. He hasn‘t had the time to do so yet and this is his third visit already.

It has a certain old charm, but without being stuffy and is very well maintained.

“This is a nice place“, he tries to move the subject.

“Thanks - It belonged to my grandparents“, Yui smiles back as she unpacks what seem to be ribbons.

“Will you…“, he stops short, struggling for the right words. “Take the job?“

The two of them exchange a look.

“You know“, he blurts, before he can stop himself, “they are really _nice_! And you get used to them. I know they can be a bit much at first, but I _promise_, it‘s really only in the beginning!“, he makes a little hectic hand movement before he continues, “And I think you‘d do them a big favour. Iwaizumi at least. Oikawa too, I guess“

“_How_?“, Yui asks, a little perplex.

“It is just that…“, Suga halts, thinks, searches for the right words. “I _really_ don't envy them, you know. It is a real drain to constantly be in the public focus like that, especially with the engagement and the, let’s say, _elite_ businesses, are a lot to handle. And I think it would have them both a lot more relaxed if this was handled by down to earth people and not somebody who is constantly spacing out over them“

Suga wrings his hands and his knuckles pop under the pressure.

He can see Daichi and Yui having, what seems to be a mental conversation, expressed entirely in varying degrees of intense stares.

The woman is the first to turn back to Suga and she explains: “We are running an estimate“

Suga has heard that sentence often enough from Iwaizumi to know, that nothing is decided yet.

“Why are you unsure about it?“, Suga hesitantly asks. “I really don‘t want to push you! I am just curious“

“Well for _starters_, we are only two people and in between preparations, arrangement and everything else, it is going to be a_ lot_ of work. Even if it is really going to be a small party“, Daichi counts down on his fingers.

“_It is_! The guest list is already about finished. Only the volleyball gang, family and close friends slash business partners. Oh and Wakatoshi and Tendou. I am not really sure where _they_ fit in“, Suga thinks out loud. “And if personnel is a problem, I think we can fix that! Either the venue crew can help you, or we‘ll just do it. Maki and I are taking off work in every case and I am sure if I kick Kuros butt he‘ll be happy to help too!“ 

_Maybe Yahaba too_. On the other hand, he isn‘t quite sure if his Kouhei has enough patience for flowers. _Watari_! They could ask Watari and while he is at it, Suga is certain that Kai and Fukunaga would also be willing to lend a hand.

He must be scrunching his face pretty bad while contemplating who he could call for aid because Daichi and Yui both dip their heads to the side and give him concerned _looks_.

But they are interrupted by a phone bussing. 

Of _course,_ it‘s Suga's.

And of course, it‘s _Oikawa_ calling.

Teeth gnashed he answers. “What is it?“

“Wow, no need to _bark_, puppy! Iwa-Chan and I just wanted to ask if you want to lunch with us?“, Oikawa says.

“I uhhhh… I am not…“, Suga shoots Daichi and Yui a quick look. “… not really in the _area_“

Short break and Oikawa delaying the information to Iwaizumi.

“Well then enjoy your _bubbles_“, he chirps.

“My _wha_t?“, Suga's face is turning pale.

“Oh you know, you sound a little _hoarse_ but considering you can still talk I am guessing _Flowers Guy_ is the one working his magic. But if you interrupted a blow job to answer my call, I fell very flat -„

All the blood that has previously left them, comes cascading back into his cheeks and Suga hangs up on his friend with a little _too_ much force.

He realises he is breathing a bit too heavy and his handshakes.

“Can you make me another bouquet? One that says: ‚_I will murder you if you don't shut the fuck up_‘?“, he asks, pressed, trying his best not to get a nosebleed.

Because great. Now _that_ image is in his head and he is going to _die_ if he has to look at Daichi ever again.

“Do you think he will fall for it again?“, Yui asks, with a little grin.

And Suga groans. “Urgh… I wasted the perfect revenge tool…“

“How about you just get him a regular bunch but since he is _suspect_ something _sinister_ he will not know if he can take it or if it‘s a prank!?“, Daichi suggests casually and Sugas head snaps up.

“Yes that is _fantastic_!“, he calls out and his eyes meet those deep brown ones. Instantly his imagination snorts a _thick_ line of cocaine and supplies him with a series of pictures he _does not need_ right now!

“I…well…“, _man coherent sentences are really not that easy_!

“But… if… well… I mean“, he clears his throat and focuses on a point right above the man’s shoulder. “He’s an _idiot_ and he doesn’t deserve the flowers anyway!”, he hisses through gritted teeth, crossing his arms over his chest.  
Yui snickers into her hand and a few heartbeats later Suga can't keep the chuckle from rising in his chest any longer as well.

With a defeated smile he leans his head back into his neck and sighed, “He’s a real _ass_, but I think he actually only wants to help. He _isn’t_, but he’s trying. In his Tooru kind of way”

*******

They end up chatting about mundane things and neither of them mentions the job after that.

Daichi realizes, that Yui and Sugawara get along like a bonfire, they have the same humour with just enough edge to be a deadly weapon if required.

When the silver-haired man leaves it feels like no time at all has passed but as it turns out it has been _several_ hours.

Yui waves after him and he waves back, but they both discern, that his last look is directed at Daichi.

“Sawamura Daichi!”, Yui says with a beaming smile, propping her hands upon her hips.

For some reason, he starts to break a sweat. That tone of voice means _trouble_.

“_Yeah_?”, Daichi asks, hesitantly.

“I wanna do it!”, she exclaims confidently and Daichi has to stop.

“_What_?”, he asks, gears turning behind his forehead, slightly under shook.

“The job. I wanna do it, what did… oooooh, you are _disgusting_!”, Yui starts, then yells, face scrunched up like she has just been forced to kiss a dead and rotten animal. “Just… _ugh_”, she shudders.

“Well, _you_ said it out loud, I didn’t”, Daichi tries to defend himself but she just continues to stare at him horrified.

“Let’s just pretend this never happened!”, she declares after another long stare, shakes herself again and leans against the counter.

“With _pleasure_”

“So, I want to take the job, Daichi! The _job_!”, she glares.

“I have no idea what you want to hint at with that tone of voice, but are you sure we can _actually_ stem that?”, he leans down next to her, arms propped up against the countertop, staring against the wall.

“_Good boy_”, she nods. “And well, we already have _one_ voluntary worker”, a wink, Daichi does his best to ignore, “I am assuming payment won’t be a problem so I think we can organise it in a way, we can close the shop for a couple of days and have enough time for everything. _Plus_ Sugawara is really nice and I’d feel bad for letting him down”

Daichi sighs. _Deeply_.

“Yui. If you _really_ want to accept the job, please view it as just that: a _job_. If.. you know… _things_… _happen_ or shit, it just will… you know”, he tries to be straight forward but just halfway through the words start disappearing from his mind. He just can’t say it out loud.

Thankfully Yui knows him best and she gets it.

“Okay. I won’t say a thing. Or look at you funny. Or him. Or anyone. Only _business-Yui,_ goof-Yui will be on vacation”, she playfully slaps his biceps.

Daichi groans, but his lips curl a little. “_Goof-Yui_ is fine. But please burn matchmaker-Yui. She is a real pain. And she isn’t even a good matchmaker!”

Yui gasps in pretend offence: “How _dare_ you mister! And also: If you already contemplate that ‘_things_’ can '_happen'_, then my job is already done”, she smirks.

Daichi looks at her deadpan: “That’s _exactly_ the kind of comment I was talking about!”, he sighs.

Instead of an answer, Yui just makes the ‘_mouth zipped close_’ motion over her lips and throws away the key.

And he can’t help but grin at that and shakes his head slightly. _Maybe_ being a huge pain in the ass was the definition of a best friend. He at least would not want to miss it _for the word_! Even if it cost him a good portion of his daily patience.

“Hey Daichi”

He turns around and before he can react, she wraps her arms around his middle and squeezes. With a fond huff he hugs her back, then he gets his papers and they start to talk about possible arrangements, to have a skin-tight plan they can approach Iwaizumi and Oikawa with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading so far ^-^
> 
> As always, comments and grammar advice are welcome.


	3. Chapter 2: The choices we make

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans progress and choices are contemplated.

Sometimes Matsukawa wonders: If there is _love_ at first sight, is there something like _undying platonic affection_ at first sight?

He wonders this for the millionth time as he stares over the edge of his magazine and blinks slowly at his brother.

“Suga”, he says. The other doesn’t hear him, naturally, since he has his headphones on.

Issei sighs and puts the paper down, just as the other bites down on his thumb especially hard and draws blood.

Suga has been nibbling at the skin next to his fingernails for the better part of the evening, as he is fixated on the screen of his laptop, constantly tapping and scrolling. The hand that he _isn’t_ mutilating is tapping on the table in rhythm to his music, but once in awhile his fingers will curl, _scratch_ across the wood like he’s in pain and he will change taps and begin to furiously murder his keyboard.

Matsukawa knows that Suga tends to listen to his work-in-progress pieces while working. But he is not sure if it is doing his fragile nerves any good.

Suga, however, says it is helping his creative vibes and his imagination and Matsukawa _can’t_ argue with that. 

And only in part, because he has actually wired Suga up _multiple_ times, to measure his brain waves under the influence of different kinds of music, he _knows_ it’s true. 

It had been quite an interesting treatise and had even gotten published in a leading medical paper.

And with the proof of data, he knew: Suga was most productive while multi-tasking work- and musical arrangements.

He still isn’t sure however, if the constant high-end stimulation was so good on the long term.

Maybe he could wrap out a follow-up study, once he was through with the medication tests he was currently supervising.

When it comes to Suga he is just a lost cause. And he worries too much. He _knows_ that, but it is some kind of deep rooting instinct, that can’t just be switched off.

Plus this is getting out of hand!

“_Koshi!_”, he puts down his magazine entirely and reaches across the table, seizing Sugas wrists and gently pulling his hands away from his teeth. It is not only his thumb, that is bloody by now.

He frowns as he looks at them._ This isn’t good_. Suga’s hands usually don’t look this bad until well into the big projects. And as far as Issei is aware he is not even done with picking contributions for the large spring exhibition.

Suga looks up at him and a soft: “Sorry, I know”, that had meant to be quiet but comes out rather loud, considering the headphones, echoes through the spacious room.

Matsukawa lifts one of his eyebrows, _beckoning_ and now Suga nods.

A silent consent for Matsun, to gently shut his laptop and brush the headphones of his head. The first time he had done this, Suga had lost half of his presentation and been so upset he had not exchanged a single word with him for a solid _month_.

And so Issei had learned, to always wait a moment before intervening.

“I’ll get some swabs and plasters”, he says and gets up from his spot.

While he goes through his neatly stashed cupboards to assemble the supplies he needs and some disinfectant he can hear Suga pick up his tapping again and sighs.

“_Just_ saving this and setting a bookmark. I’ll have to take the train to Matsuyama tomorrow to meet with this guy. The sample is very promising but I want to look at it in person and I have to memorise this by then!”, the silver-haired calls over and Issei’s lips curl into a little smile. 

Always so hard working. 

If he wasn’t so_ worried_ he’d be nothing but _proud_.

Suga shuts the laptop when he comes back and while avoiding his eyes, willingly hands over his tormented fingers.

Patiently Matsukawa pats them down with alcohol, then applies plasters with practised motions.

“Thanks”, Suga slurs by the time he is finished and jawns. “You have late shift tomorrow, don’t you?”

Issei nods and continues to run his fingers along Suga's. His brother hums contently.

“You wanna stay over?”, he asks.

His apartment is actually inhabitable since they spend half the day cleaning up. Takahiro, the _jerk_ who caused most of the mess in the first place, left them hanging, busy with his new case. 

They had spent most of the last month at Matsukawa's apartment since Hiro had not been working a case and his hours were rather lax.

But now that work was calling again, he had moved back to his own and left the clean-up to Issei and Suga.

Their patchwork of sleepovers might seem weird but they actually tried to move in together several times and it had always been a minor disaster.

Takahiro was just too much of a free spirit and also he was a _very dominant_ sleeper. Wriggling out from underneath him whenever Issei had the morning shift or finding space in his bed, that the other had sprawled out in, on the nights he came home from his late shift, was borderline impossible.

And Hiro got _cranky_ when he was woken up too early. It just didn’t work out.

And so they just spend the nights at who’s ever place was more convenient.

Matsukawa didn’t really care. Nor did he bother, when Hanamaki went out to score random one-night stands, whenever he had his especially demanding episodes.

People looked weird at them, but neither cared nor did their friends.

Suga has been as nice as to help him after he got back from the flower shop, so he would not spend his _entire_ free day with house clean.

_The flower shop_. Issei can’t help but sigh. He knows, that _that_ shop is responsible for a good portion of the bloody fingertips.

He _hates_ to see Suga so lost.

“Koshi?”, he asks, as he gets no reply.

Suga flinches and looks up at him. “Sorry, just… _zoned out_ for a second”

“You want to stay the night?”, he repeats and adds: “We can order something if you want too”

Suga sighs like he would love too and that sound is enough to know that he won’t.

“I would _love to_, really, but I think I should go home. Have to catch the train early and I still haven’t packed”

Matsukawa nods.

“Want me to call you a cab?”, he gives the inside of Suga's hand one last, soft caress, before he stands up and offers his hand out.

“Nah, I’ll take the subway”, the other yawns and takes it. Matsun vaults him up and Suga slumps right back against his chest. “_Tired_”, he muffles and Issei laughs fondly.

“You _sure_ you don’t want to stay?”

“Yeah”, Suga nods and rubs at his eyes. “I don’t wanna wake you when you have late shift and need all the sleep you can get”, he says as he packs his things.

Issei ends up escorting Suga to the station anyways and hugs him before they part. 

“And no more work, okay? You need sleep too!”, he tells him with his _doctors-orders_ voice.

Suga laughs. “Yeah yeah._ Straight to bed_!”

“You’re a horrible liar, Ko!”, Matsun whispers and presses a little peck against Sugas hairline.

The other at least has the decency to look guilty, then he pecks him back on the cheek and vanishes through the turnstile and down the escalator with a last wave.

Maybe if Suga is out of town tomorrow he can safely check out the shop, Matsukawa contemplates.

But just as he thinks it, his heart painfully reminds him, that he made a _promise_ specifically not to. And he _can’t_ break a promise that he made to his baby brother.

Even if it would be for Sugas own good.

Matsukawa is torn as he walks the block back to his building. He knows all this emotional _whack-a-mole_, his relationships consist of, is taking its toll on Suga and as his brother, it is his duty to make sure he doesn’t seriously hurt himself.

But he _promised_ not to go.

And yet he _needs_ to know!

He massages his temple as he opens his door and flops back down on the sofa, staring at the cover of his reading, like the biologist featured on the front page will come to live and tell him the solution to his problem.

As it turns out he will not have to wait long for a chance to get his own impression, but for now, he climbs into the shower and then goes to bed. Sleep has always come easily to him and so he is out cold not even five minutes later.

*******

Daichi’s phone is bussing.

_Unknown number_.

He looks at Yui, who is in the midst of advising a middle-aged woman on flowers for her daughter's wedding anniversary and she gives him a slight nod.

He answers on his way to the back.

“Sawamura”, he says, phone tucked between cheek and shoulder as he clears Yui’s coat of their desk. She could at least _pretend_ like she is trying to use the hooks on the wall.

“Yeah hey, this is Iwaizumi! Sorry, my phone is dead so I had to lend a friend's and… _my god, Suga will you stop trying to hit me_… sorry”, there is a loud wail in the background and a muffled ‘_What the hell, I borrowed your phone literally a million times before!_’, then Iwaizumi is back at the speaker and clears his throat. “I saw your text this morning and I just wanna say: Thanks _a lot_! Approximately 30 pounds less on my chest!”, he laughs.

Daichi is sure he does _not blush_, not only because he is totally _not surprised_ by the praise but also because knowing he now has Sugawara's number makes his heartbeat _absolutely steady_ and without any skips!

“Uh, sure. It’s our _job_ after all. No need to thank us yet”, he answers and plops down on the chair, pulling a notepad and a pen towards him.

“No seriously!”, Iwaizumi seems a little out of breath, or maybe it is just the connection that makes his voice sound huffy. “This is really great! Listen,_ I know_ it’s short notice but do you maybe have time to meet tomorrow? Tooru is going to leave the city on Wednesday and he’s away for a week and a half. I thought maybe we can just sit together and have a short brainstorm before he’s off so you have time to think about stuff”

Daichi contemplates the suggestion quickly. “I’m not that sure.. can you hold on a second?”, he asks and leans around to face Yui, sticking her head into the office.

“_Iwaizumi_! Asks if we can meet tomorrow for planing”, he mouths, phone held to his chest.

“_When?_”, Yui silently asks and Daichi gets back on the phone.

“When?”, he delays the question.

There is some talking of the other side, then the other offers: “A late lunch? Half-past two maybe?”

Daichi gives the information to Yui and she nods. They will have to close the shop, but then again statistics have proven that Tuesdays are their second weakest day of the week.

“Sure thing. Where?”, he grabs the pen but as he runs the tip over the paper he realises it’s out of ink.

Silently cursing he throws it at the bin, misses and starts to rummage through the old, metal cookie box they keep their office supplies in.

“_Here_”, Yui hands him a deep blue Stabilo fineliner and he blinks at her gratefully.

“Do you know the Malaysian place at Cascade Plaza?”

Daichi thinks. “Never been but I think I know where it is. First floor, the entrance is next to the _Prada_ store, isn’t it?”

“That’s the place!”, Iwaizumi confirms with an audible smile. “See you tomorrow then and thanks again!”

Daichi lowers his phone and takes a deep breath. _That was quick_. He didn’t even have the time to short circuit.

Yui leans past him and looks at the address. “Uh, that’s a _fancy_ place! I always wanted to try but I haven’t yet found a good occasion!”, she hums to herself.

“Well, I don’t know if _this_ counts but looks like your dream is coming true anyways”, he breathes and leans back into the chair.

This is business.

_This is business_.

**This**. **Is**. **Business.**

Nothing more. Nothing less.

***

“I _hate_ you”, Suga informs him from here Hanamaki has lifted him under his armpits to keep him away from Iwaizumi and the phone.

“Oh _come on_! Now you are just being ridiculous. Do I have to remind you, what _you used my phone_ for already?”, he slips the item in question back into Sugars messenger bag.

“In my defence I was high _as a kite_ and may I remind you who’s fault _that_ was!?”, Suga crosses his arms and leans his head back with a _pointed_ look.

“_Wow_! Blaming this on me is just _low_, even for you!”, Hanamaki snorts out, still holding him aloft.

By now their shorty has stopped struggling and seems rather content to be just hanging there. Probably to give his friend _one hell_ of a muscle ache tomorrow but what does Iwaizumi know.

“I have no idea what this is going to be when it’s finished, but it looks like fun. _Iwa-Chan_!”, Oikawa cooks his head to the side as he walks into the bar, Matsukawa at his heels and gives him a suggestive blink.

“You are taller than me, _idiot_!”, Iwaizumi gruffs with an eye roll.

Oikawa doesn’t let himself be discouraged, _because he never does_, and instead presses up against Iwaizumi, forcing him to dip his head back and dives in for a soft but _deep_ kiss.

“Get a room”, Suga bites.

“_Tiny_”, is all that Iwaizumi replies once Oikawa is sated.

“Low bar, Hajime. _Low bar_!”, slitted eyes, filled with deep and bitter betrayal drill into him, but he just grins devilish.

“I thought no more substance abuse before 1 am?”, Matsukawa looks in between Suga, still dangling from Maki's arms like a freshly bathed cat and Iwaizumi who has decided to lean against the counter with a cocky smile and zip his beer.

“_Unfortunately_ we are all still sober”, Hanamaki informs him, then offers Suga to his partner, “Which needs to be changed _asap_. So please hold this for me, while I arrange further beverages”

Matsukawa takes Suga from him with a little smile as the smaller one huffs out unnerved.

“How was your trip?”, Issei asks and their human wet-cat begins to beam.

“It was _really_ cool. I _love_ the sculptures! I am not sure what you have to smoke tough to get the idea but the artists are nice and welcoming and they have a _perfect_ vibe”, he chimes with shining eyes.

“Glad to hear”, Iwaizumi grins and hooks his arm around Oikawa's waist, as his fiance returns from the wardrobe and leans against him.

“_Aw_, let me take a picture. This just looks _so_ cute!”, Hanamaki returns with drinks for their late arrivals and searches for his phone. “Suga, can _I_ borrow yours too?”, he asks a little too cocky.

“Instead of being an _ass_, I think you should lift me more, maybe then you’d be _finally_ able to win a single match of arm wrestling, _noodle-arms_!”, Suga hisses back and Maki gasps in shock.

“_Shots fired_”, Oikawa whispers into his glass, lips curling and their strawberry blonde hisses.

“Betrayal. _Betrayal everywhere_”

“_You_ started it!”, Suga bristles, referring to the fact, that it had been _Hanamaki_ who offered his phone to Iwaizumi and Matsukawa decides to gently set him down on the floor again before this can escalate any further.

“Oh by the way”, Iwaizumi leans into Oikawa and tells him quietly, “I reached Flowers Guy and…”

“He has a _name_!”, Suga’s voice is a little _too_ strong.

“... he can meet us tomorrow at the Makan. I told him two-thirty”, Iwaizumi goes on, without so much as batting an eye.

“Sounds _lovely_”, Oikawa smiles and gives him a fond kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Thanks for taking care of it!”

Iwaizumi hums.

“I did my job too. And _we got it_!”, he grins and Iwaizumi’s head snaps around.

“Seriously?”

“_Jup_. The entire Dome”, Oikawa looks way too smug, but this is one of the instances Iwaizumi doesn’t mind at all.

“_No_”, he breathes.

“_Yes_”

And Iwaizumi puts his beer on the counter, to have both hands free to _squish_ the other's cheeks and kiss him _hard_.

“It’s gonna be _awesome_!”, he beams.

“Well, yeah…”, Oikawa looks flustered and only when Matsukawa coughs discretely he gives in. “It was _actually_ Matsun - I just went there today to confirm”

Iwaizumi turns around.

“Told ya, Kaede could rock this. And: _My_ sister, _my_ award”, he grins as Iwaizumi goes to hug him.

“I am _not_ going to kiss you! But tell her, she’s got one good with me. A _big_ one!”, he grins, his heart still skipping beats.

The _Dome_. 

He’s uncharacteristically invested in this. Maybe whatever wedding-fever _disease_ Oikawa has gotten, has infected him to? 

Will he feel less hyped about the whole thing, when he takes an ice bath? 

Maybe he should try before people start to think he has had a _stroke_ or something.

“Eh, she’s gonna call one in, whether you offer or not!”, Suga laughs and Matsukawa just shrugs with a defeated smile.

Iwaizumi has only briefly met the oldest Matsukawa sibling, but from the stories he has heard, she is a character to be _reckoned_ with.

As chief editor for the largest and most influential political newspapers in the country she has to be, he’s guessing.

“Well then, a _toast_. To a venue, flowers and the fact, nobody has gone into hiding yet!”, Hanamaki cheers and with various degrees of laughter they join in.

“It’s not even _six pm_! _Why_ are we already in a bar?”, Suga is the first to mention as they take their third row of shots but he gets collectively shushed and handed a forth.

“Here Mr _Not-So-Refreshing_! Spoilsports get an extra”, Oikawa giggles and Suga gives in with a deep sigh.

“Come on. _You_ aren’t one to complain. _You_ don’t get drunk!”, Iwaizumi grins.

“No, but _you_ do and we all have to _work_ tomorrow!”, Suga exclaims, pinching his nose as he downs the tequila.

He _does_ have a point.

“Okay, how 'bout this”, Hanamaki slurs. “_One_ more for a solid slumber!?”

Nobody objects and _one_ turns into _seven_ before they manage to break it up.

***

Suga likes the quiet of his office, but it is moments like this when he is absolutely _in love_ with it.

Only the occasional groans from the floor next to him are a thorn in his side.

“Don’t you have… I don’t know: _work_?”, he asks the slumped figure curled up in his beanbag.

“_T’mchnoisenotlk_”, comes the response and he just lets out an “_aha_”

_Whatever_.

As long as Hanamaki can still complain, he will be fine.

“_Tsosad_”, continues the depressed muffling and Suga rolls his eyes, turning the tablet to look at his layout from a different angle.

It is not uncommon for his hungover friends to seek shelter at his office. There are a lot of places to hide in between all the boxes and waist-high staples of old brochures and sample-catalogues from past projects, that Suga doesn’t know where to put or hasn’t had the time to clean up yet.

Oikawa likes to sleep under his blueprint and model table. Issei tends to sleep stretched over both of his guest chairs, his _absurdly_ long arms and legs dangling over the armrests. Iwaizumi too is fond of the chairs but he just sits, slumped into a pile. And _Takahiro_ has condemned the bean bag, that he likes to drag half under Suga’s desk.

“What’s sad?”, he asks, only half paying attention.

“_Werejustthrty’n’ialrdyflsoold_”

“You are _thirty-one_ Takahiro and we are _not_ old, you had the unbelievably stupid idea to get wasted on a _Tuesday_ night! We would have been shitfaced in our twenties too”, Suga informs him with _little_ pity.

“_Whnyoun’tsick_?”, Hanamaki moves in his nest and turns his head to look at Suga.

“Because”, Suga reaches for the can on his table and gestures with it, “I already refilled this _twice_”, he informs his friend and makes the last puddle of deep black coffee _splosh_ at its base.

His friend looks at it for a second, then he bursts into a fit of borderline _hysterical_ giggles.

“_Yr’gnnashitlikeamashinegun_”, he manages to get out, then he continues to snicker and attempts to roll over, but ends up _groaning_ in agony and clutching at his head. So instead he returns to his embryonal pose and lets out a _pitiful_ whimper.

Suga snuffles and looks at the can. Well, Hanamaki is not _wrong_.

But right now he needs to be _working_. He can worry about the effect of a solid four litres of coffee on his bowels _later_.

As long as it keeps him standing, he will chuck it. This needs to be finished!

“Don’t you have a case?”, he asks Hanamaki, holding the tablet a little bit away, squinting at the sculpture on the display, then moves it closer again.

“_Ido_”, the other muffles. “_Bt’tskayfIcme’nlate_ -_ jstwannasleepsm’more_”

Suga hums in acknowledgement, pulling his laptop over and starts to make some notes on the piece.

And the rhythmic clicking of the keys seems to be enough to lull his hungover friend back into sweet slumbers.

Suga works his way further trough his first selection of contributions and moves them from list to list _to list_.

He has already picked out the ones he wants to have in the spring exhibition _in every case_. Now he has to decide which one to fill the rest of the space with.

On his laptop, he is already working on a rough layout, coding away at his 3D interior design programme.

No matter how often it has gotten him to the border of _absolute_ sleep deprivation, and the verge of tears, he _loves_ his job. 

When he thinks back, he is still somewhat surprised how someone with a resume as messy as him has managed to _accidentally_ become one of the leading curators for the _National Gallery_.

His phone rings and he takes a look.

A text from Iwaizumi to their group chat, asking how they are doing. Or well, at least that’s how _Suga_ is interpreting the: _Who’s fucking idea was this_?

He sends him a picture of the sleeping Hanamaki and caps it: _Just try not to get too much blood on my carpet_.

He gets the next text from Oikawa: _I think we just found us the perfect Christmas card_.

Suga can’t help but snicker and sends a _thumbs-up_ emoji.

Knowing Hanami, he will take it with pride - this is _by far_ not the most compromising picture of their friend and he _actually_ looks kind of cute. Maybe he can photoshop a _Santa-jelly-bag-cap_ into it.

He smiles to himself and stretches his arms above his head.

Trying not to step on Hanamaki he gets up and walks over to his model table, looking down onto the miniature of their current exhibition, then up at the huge calendar that dominates this part of the northern wall. He put up the new one some time ago so that he now has the current an the next year mapped out in front of him.

He grabs his _Eddings_ and starts to tap the black one against his chin.

The currently running exhibition will be open until _November 6th_ and while the Chinese occupy his premises he doesn’t have much to do. 

Simply be there and help if questions or difficulties occur and when they move out the beginning of November he’ll have three weeks to get his own team back into work mode and set up the project he is currently making the final plans for.

‘Movement’ - A stunning series of sculptures, installations and modules.

His favourite so far is the flowing stone.

He decides to highlight important dates in green. The _wedding_, _Maki’s_ birthday, _Matsun’s_ and _Yahaba’s_, _The GALA _ and starts to set himself deadlines.

They help him with keeping an overview and coordinating all the workers.

And then, he takes a deep breath, _spring exhibit_, their main show of the year and the very thing he is already picking contributions for even though it doesn’t come around until the end of February. 

He pointedly avoids to look at his _to-do-list_, that is hanging next to the calendar in the form of half a zillion _post-it_ notes.

Only when he can no longer avoid it, he starts to eye them. To his great relieve he can remove two but there are still _too_ many.

_Far_ too many, considering more will join, the further his work progresses.

_ If you wouldn’t spend your free days, pursuing something, that is obviously pointless, maybe you’d have enough time to actually get stuff done, instead of riding yourself further into another depressive episode! _

The merciless voice in the back of his head is _not_ wrong.

Usually, he is praised for his organisation skills but right now he can’t see them _anywhere_ in a thousand miles.

With a soft groan, he leans his head against the wall, feels the laminated foil cold against his skin.

What is _wrong_ with him?

He knows he’s a disaster, he _knows_ it. But somehow he has gotten too _used_ to it to try changing it anymore.

Suga remains like this, head pressed into the wall, concentrating on Maki's soft snoring, on his own breath, on the far and distant noise of the exhibition. 

_Breathe_.

**In**.

_Out_.

**In**.

And _Out_.

He clears his head, calms his thought.

Like Oikawa had taught him so _so_ many years ago.

When he thinks back to his first performance, he is always surprised by how young, how _innocent_ he had been. 

How much had _changed_ since then.

How much _hadn’t_.

His lips curl into a faint smile and he lets out a deep, liberating breath.

_I’m a _mess. _But I know how to be an _effective_ mess by now!_, he reminds himself and turns to look at his slumbering friend, then at his phone to check the time.

_Almost one_.

A little too early for lunch and Maki has just fallen asleep. He’s gonna be all whiney if Suga wakes him up _now_.

So he smiles, takes one of the blankets he bought last winter when the heating broke down and the old building had turned into an oversized refrigerator and drapes it over Takahiro.

He leaves him a _post-it_ note in case he wakes up on his own and takes phone and keys to venture on a little tour. To see if his Chinese guests are doing fine and continue to explore the exhibition himself.  
So far he has only managed to inspect the first two segments and he is _intrigued_ to continue. It is an honour to be allowed to host the prime selection from Beijing's _Museum Of Modern Art_ and Suga intends to inhale the new styles and perspectives. Maybe he will decide to use some of the foreign elements for projects to come - _who knows_, the future is full of surprises!

*******

“Am I underdressed?”, Yui asks for the _millionth_ time and Daichi’s patience for nice answers is starting to run thin. _Very thin._

She had brought a _whole duffle bag of clothes_ to work and forced him to sit through a seemingly _endless_ display of various outfits only to end up in the _very_ clothes she came in with, a shrug and a half-hearted: “Ah, who cares, it’s casual anyway, isn’t it!?”

And that would have been a good attitude if halfway through their train ride she hadn’t decided that _maybe_ she should have dressed a little fancier and began to nag on Daichi's choice of clothes as a distraction.

If he had been a character in an anime, his eyebrow would have started to _twitch_ by now. But since he - _unfortunately_ \- wasn’t, he was doomed to quietly accept the torment and try to just blend it out.

“_I don’t know_ \- we’ll see”, he presses out, when she continues to drill her eyes into the side of his head.

They move around a group of hysterically laughing women, bursting out of the _Prada_ store and make a _narrow_ turn to squeeze into the restaurant's entrance before the horde, armed with new stilettos or whatever, can run them over.

Daichi holds the door open for his boss, then he follows her up the stairs, steps cushioned by a mandarin orange carpet.

They can’t even tell the dark-skinned waiter, manning the small counter with the sign ‘_Wait here to be seated_’, why they are there.

He looks them up, then down, then nods and begs them to follow. “This way please”

The man leads them through the restaurant, up another five stairs and into a more secluded area.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa reside at a table, a little hidden but with a perfect view down into the main room and through the huge glass windows, onto the plaza outside.

“Thank you Jebat”, Oikawa flashes the man a smile, as he bows and leaves them.

“Sorry we’re a little late, subway was chaos”, Daichi apologises and shakes the hand he is offered.

Then he looks at Iwaizumi, who is very blankly staring somewhere into the far distance.

“Uh, you okay?”, he asks _carefully_.

“I will _murder_ him”, is the whispered response.

Daichi exchanges a look with Yui, then with Oikawa, who just rolls his eyes and begs them to take a seat.

“Wow, I know a _hangover_ when I see one”, Yui ponders with a soft and commiserate smile.

“He’s so done. As soon as the room stops spinning he’s _done_!”, and Iwaizumi drops his head on the table.

Oikawa tries to elbow him, but all he gets are a couple of dismissive groans and when it is clear, that his partner will not get up properly in the foreseeable future he moves on to rub soothing circles in between his shoulder blades.

“Maki is more wrecked than the rest of us combined so I think he got his bearings already”, the brunette assesses.

“Oh, the clever little _shit_ is sleeping under Sugas desk! I bet he’s getting his rotten ass spoiled to the moon and back”, Iwaizumi grumbles into the table.

Jebat returns with a large bottle of sparkling water, four menus and a two tiny glasses with something yellowish and transparent in it. Raw eggs, Daichi assumes.

“_Thanks_”, Iwaizumi croaks, lifts his head off the table, pinching his nose and downs both glasses in quick succession.

Daichi is privileged to witness how the mans face changes colour _multiple_ times, then he shudders from toes to hair tips and chug-a-lugs his glass of water in one go.

Their waiter patiently waits for him to put the glass down, then he refills it and does the same for everyone else, before he bows and leaves once more.

“_Shit_, why didn’t _I_ think of hiding with Suga, cause fuck me, that was _disgusting_!”, Iwaizumi gasps and turns his face away to stifle a burp.

Daichi can’t help but prick up his ears at the mention of the silver-haired man.

“_Hajime_!”, Oikawa elbows him.

“_Sorry_”, the response is week.

“Eh don’t worry, we all get shitfaced from time to time. _No_ _shame_ in getting old”, Yui laughs and Daichi tries not to bury his face in the table too.

They are here on _business_!

He prays to every deity he knows of, that Yui won’t suggest exchanging embarrassing hangover stories.

“So sorry about that”, Oikawa repeats, lounging back into his seat, flashing them an apologetic smile.

And Daichi can’t help but notice how fundamentally _different_, from the last time they met, the man is.

_Maybe it’s the hangover_?

“Please, order whatever you want, you are of course invited. The _Laksa_ is very good here!”, Oikawa makes a generous handwave as he opens his own menu.

“I’m having the _Hainanese chicken rice_”, Iwaizumi declares and doesn’t even bother to look at his card.

Daichi ends up deciding on something called _Wonton Mee_, described as egg noodles with soy sauce. It has been a good while since he had been at a Malaysian place, _if he had ever been at one_ and most of the dishes sound questionable _at best_. But noodles and soy he’s familiar with.

They order their food and Oikawa and Yui both add a litschi spritzer.

His noodles are surprisingly _sticky_ and it takes Daichi a little to figure out how to eat them in reasonable, _mouth-sized_ portions but they are _delicious_!

Yui has ordered a kind of fish curry and is practically inhaling her food. Daichi is a little disturbed by the _whole head_, garnishing the thing. That fish is _staring_ at him!

Iwaizumi seems to wake as soon as his rice arrives and the further their lunch progresses, the more he returns to the person Daichi has met and they start with idle chatter.

Apparently, Oikawa has to leave town for a modelling job.

“Actually I have no idea what the commercial is about. A friend asked for a favour”, he admits, contently zipping at his beverage. “I think it’s for shoes or dress pants. It definitely did have something to do with _clothes_, that much I remember”

Daichi is privy to notice how much more relaxed both other men are - maybe Sugawara _was_ right and they are relieved not to have to deal with more high-end people.

Yui asks about the car and Iwaizumi explains, that it is a custom paint.

They also learn, that he works in personnel management for the East Asia branch of _Porsche_.

“I made my bachelor in taxation and worked for a financial company that went bankrupt - just great, _I know_. One of my superiors got an offer from _Porsche_ and he got one for me too. Saved my bloody ass!”, he tells them. “Didn’t have one in their tax department tough so I had to start from scratch but I think I managed pretty well so far. I like working with people”

They go on about this and that and Daichi starts to forget why they came here in the first place until their plates are being cleared and they have chosen desert. Only then Oikawa gets down to business.

He pulls out his phone and puts it on the table, tapping away at the calendar. “We have settled on a date. It’s going to be the _sixth of February_”, he tells them and Yui gets her notebook from her purse.

“Great!”, she opens a new page and notes it down.  
“And at the _Skyfire Dome_”, he adds and Daichi almost chokes on his tea.

“Wait, _the_ Dome?”, he asks and Iwaizumi grins smugly.

“Jup”, he chortles with a goofy smile.

“A friend pulled some favours”, Oikawa dismisses it with a floppy hand wave, but the _gleam_ in his eyes is giving him away.

Daichi has been once to the famous skyscraper with the impressive glasshouse on its roof. It had been a trip, the architectural department of his university had organized and Daichi had been allowed to tag along. Usually, neither building nor the _Dome_, as it was commonly known, were open to the public, as both were owned by the Takonima company - one of the largest publisher and owner of the _Skyfire_ TV stations.

“It didn’t know it was up for rent”, he can’t help but push.

“It _isn’t_”, Oikawa says plainly. “Usually it is company exclusive but we managed to find a… let’s call it a _loophole_”, he smiles.

“We practically sold our soul for it”, Iwaizumi amends.

“It can’ get _that_ bad”, Oikawa looks doubtful.

“Suga says she is up and about three Makis bad. That's pretty much _satan_”

Oikawa rolls his eyes.

“Anyways. I am guessing you will want to look at everything, so you can just… you _have_ Sugas number, right?”

“Yes”, Daichi is infinitely grateful that Yui goes to answer that one because Oikawa is practically _drilling_ into him with his piercing brown eyes.

“Good - he knows his way around and the reception is familiar with him. Plus he’s working on the seating anyway, so he can show you everything”

“What about Matsun?”, Iwaizumi throws in.

“Is on night shift the entire next two weeks”

“_Uff_”

Oikawa hums and turns his head to look outside, down at the plaza. For a few moments, he stills like that, deep in thought.

Iwaizumi zips at his tea and takes one of the sweet treats that are arranged in the middle of the table.

Then the brunette taps his finger on the table with vigour and turns back around at them.  
“I am sorry”, he says and takes one as well. “To be honest, we haven’t really discussed the decor between ourselves, since, I am not entirely aware of all the options at hand. So I was hoping for a little _input_ or _recommendations_”

And it is at that point, that Daichi is _elusively_ glad, they prepared something!

Yui flips the pages of her notebook and takes out the checklist they came up with.

And while their tea cools down to a drinkable temperature and long after that, they start to fathom the preferences. Small or large bouquets, if colour or meaning is more important, if they want them dry or in vases and all the little perks, they will need to come up with a skintight setup.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi listen closely, ask questions once in a while and whenever they seem divided on a question, Yui gives them a little bit of her personal opinion, explains pros and cons of either option and in the end takes a picture of the list and sends it to Iwaizumi, so they can discuss it again in private.

At some point, Daichi notices, that their fingers have laced together and he can’t help but marvel at the _delicately_ engraved gold band on Oikawa's left hand. From afar he can’t make out what is depicted, but the reflections catch his eye either way.  
“I didn’t want to bring samples in my purse into a fancy restaurant, but If you want some to determine the optics you can just text us your ideas and we can make some”, she offers as soon as it’s sent.

“Thanks!”, Iwaizumi gives her a thumbs up, then checks double when his phone vibrates and Oikawa hums appreciatively.

“When will you have to know?”, he asks, chin resting in hand.

Yui flips to the calendar and temporary schedule they made and rests her pencil against her wrist. “I’d say mid of December _latest_. End would also still work, but we need at least a full month to organise and make everything”, she contemplates. “Depending on what choice of flowers we end up with, we’ll have to order them and sometimes that can take time”  
“I understand. End of December is also the deadline we have set with the caterer and the invitations. By then we’ll know how many people there will be and how we want everything to look”, Oikawa agrees with another nod.

“We mean a deadline for a solid _concept_. Volume can always be in- or decreased and vases moved from one spot to the other. But the overall arrangement should be decided on. If we have the components they can be moved and quantified. But we need the _basis_ first”, Daichi clarifies in and Yui nods.

“I have no idea what my business-minion just said but _yeah_”, Yui elbows him playfully.  
Daichi rolls his eyes and Iwaizumi grins into the last two gulps of his cup.

“_So_, I have a distinct feeling, you don’t just know each other through work”, he raises an eyebrow and Yui laughs out loud.

“_Nah_!”, she grins. “We went to middle school together and _then_ High School and _then_ University and we have pretty much been best friends ever since we were _this_”, and she holds her hand at roughly the same height as the tabletop.

“We weren’t _that small_ in middle school”, Daichi furrows his brows.

“You _know_ what I mean”, she dismisses his comment.

And Daichi doesn’t argue. He doesn’t have the energy to get into a full-fledged flight over how tall they were at a certain point in time, because he _knows_ that is what is going to happen, should he decide to question her depiction any further.

“Aww, how _cute_”, Oikawa coos with a mischievous glint to his eyes.  
Daichi can’t help but snort out loud.

Yui whacks him and Oikawa chuckles some more. Iwaizumi whacks _him_.

Jebat appears, probably summoned by the ancient instinct of knowing when his workplace is about to turn into a warzone and asks if they wish anything else.

Oikawa shakes his head and asks: “I believe there is still something on our card? I’d like to clear that too, please”

They slowly start to pack their things together and Iwaizumi excuses himself. Yui follows him shortly after.

“_So_”, the second the man starts to talk Daichi feels very anxious. Because _there_ it is: The friendly, yet _predatory_ edge to Oikawa’s face, tone and posture, that Daichi had seen during his visit at the shop. “You _are_ a good team, you and her”, the slice in his voice is scratching along Daichi's scalp and he shudders inwardly. It sounds like a threat. 

A _curious_ threat but a _threat_ none the less.

“I _guess_ we are”, he chokes out.  
Oikawa crooks his head to the side, a millisecond to quick for it to _not_ resemble a vulture examining its prey.

“She is like a sister to me”, he says and then smiles weakly, “Well, _another_ sister. I already have two”

“_Family sticks together_”, Oikawa tells him and something in his expression, leaves no doubt, that there is a _deeper_ meaning to his words. One, that Daichi isn’t quite capable of unravelling.

“Family sticks together”, he still agrees, because even if he can’t look behind that second layer, the statement is nonetheless true.

They sit in silence, eyes locked and it feels like a _hook_, attached to this pungent gaze, is pulling the very essence of who he is _right out_ of his body, _spreads_ the piece of him on the table and _examines_ each and every one like they are antiques found on a flea market. Interested, at attention, eyeing _every_ detail yet sceptical, _questioning_ their authenticity.

Daichi doesn’t avert his eyes. He knows, if he does, he has _failed_. Failed this test or whatever it is and failed _himself._

And just before it can turn borderline painful, Iwaizumi, Yui and Jebat return.

Oikawa pays and they leave the restaurant.

Right before the door downstairs, they hold and they shake hands.

“So, give Ko-chan a call, will you. I don’t think he has too much work at the time, so he should be flexible. And we’ll get in touch in two weeks, or if some questions occur”, Oikawa sums up and they all nod. “_Brilliant_!”, he flashes a bright smile, pulls out sunglasses, puts them on and a firm handshake later, him and Iwaizumi are out the door and have disappeared Before they are gone, tough, Daichi can hear the later grumble: “If he’s nursing Maki, he really can’t have _that_ much to do”

They stand in the doorway for another moment, then Yui jabs him in the ribs and when he turns to her, she has the most whimsical smile on her lips, eyes sparking.  
“_No_”, he says and walks out.

“Oh _come on_, Daichi. I thought this was '_strictly a job'_, no need to fuss over one little _call_”, she jogs after him.  
He opens his mouth, closes it. _Damn her_, using his own words against him!

“Well what's the problem if _you_ just do it, then!”, he eventually comes up with on the stairs down into the subway.

“I am the _boss_. Phone calls and arranging appointments are _beneath_ me. You are the _underling_!”, she declares with a fakely arrogant huff, both eyes closed, fists on hips.  
When one of her large doe eyes opens, still playfully shining, entirely focused on him, it is _no_ surprise when she trips over a discarded plastic bottle and goes down with a loud _yelp_.

Daichi catches her with an arm in front of her chest.

“I just saved your _life_, Michimiya Yui, I think you owe me - and I happen to know the _perfect_ way you can make it up!”, he informs her deadpan.

One eye roll and a pissed: “What kind of _asshole_ just throws his trash on the stairs?” later she drops the topic.  
Unfortunately, it is far to late and Daichi's chest and brain are already and happily trying to murder one another.

***

“I think the coast is clear”, Oikawa declares.

“You are getting _paranoid_”, Iwaizumi answers and just gets a sigh, that is paired with a _long_ and _hard_ eye roll.

“I mean for _Ko-Chan_”, he graciously decides to enlighten his partner.

Iwaizumi grunts. “Either that, or we just set fire to a _huge_ tinderbox!”, he mumbles and rounds a woman with a trolley.  
They are walking down the pedestrian zone at a good pace, having parked at the other end of this particular passage.  
“Hm, what did she say to you?”, Oikawa asks as they rejoin.

“Quote;_ Like a baby brother_; Unquote”, Iwaizumi recites, then ads: “Either they are really just good friends or that was the most _brutal_ case of being _friend zoned_ I have ever heard of”

Oikawa chuckles and bumps their shoulders affectionately.

A young school girl sees them and her eyes turn _large_. Oikawa gives her a warm smile and puts a finger to her lips, in a way Iwaizumi can’t see, then he leans over and presses a kiss to his partner's cheek.

The girl flushes _bright_ red, but he knows she will keep silent.  
“You are not _half_ as good as you think, because I very much saw that!”, Iwaizumi informs him deadpan.

Oikawa can’t and doesn’t _want_ to fight the wave of pure, warm and _solid_ affection that sweeps him. It puts a giddy feeling into his stomach like he is sixteen again and pushes another fond laugh over his lips.

Lips, that he unites with Iwaizumi’s cheek once more, apologetic.

The other sighs, but there is half a smile in it and he winds his arm around Oikawa’s waist. 

He returns the gesture and it is the best feeling in life, walking just like that!

“Why, what was your impression?”, Iwaizumi asks.

“He’s good. Has a solid core… _shaken_, but stronger than he thinks”, Oikawa closes his eyes and lets it flow through back through him. What he felt when he looked at Sawamura. The _resonance_.

“They are both afraid. In agony. We just have to soothe that, or get them far enough to soothe it themselves”, he professes.

“A _shit ton_ of alcohol!?”, the green-eyed suggest with a half-hearted shrug.

“Time, Iwa-Chan. _Time_! And a twined path.”  
“So what do you have in mind?”

“Nothing”, Oikawa declares in state. "_Yet_"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once more thanks for reading so far and thank you so, so so much for the Kudos and comments ^-^ It really means a lot to me


	4. Chapter 3: The lion's den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ball starts spinning and new bonds are formed.

In the end, Yui _does_ call Sugawara and the fact, she does is a constant thorn in Daichi's side. Because that was _way_ too easy and _way_ too little of a discussion _not_ to make him suspicious.

The expected bill comes a week later, on the day of the meeting.

“Oh I am not coming”, she smiles at him over the counter. “Here is everything you need - have a nice day” and with a _thud_, she puts a messenger bag in his arms.

Daichi stands there, a little baffled, holding the bag like he has been tasked to dispose of nuclear waste. Mainly horrified and a little desperate.

“Wait, you _can’t_ let me go alone. What am I even supposed to do?”, he stutters and peeks into the damned thing.

A large notepad, pencil and eraser, a calculator, Yui's camera and a _Snickers_. _Seriously?_

“Just measure everything out, take pictures of the venue and if there is already a table plan, copy the rough layout”, she chirps.

“_But_…”, Daichi is struggling for words, “it’s _the Dome_! Don’t you want to see it?”, he does his best to appeal to her sense of adventure.

“I will. Sooner or later so don’t worry - and we can’t close the shop _again_, so _bye-bye_”, and she has the nerve to wave at him.

He is not even an arm's length away from her.

“You could have at least gotten me a _Mars_”, Daichi grumbles as he slings the bag over his shoulder and gives her a last dirty look.

Well played madam, _well played_.

He will find a way to pay her back for this one!

“_Check the front_”, she whistles after him and he can hear how proud of herself she is.

The entire way to the subway he sulks, chewing the _Mars_, furious with himself.

He said it, god damn it! It is _just a job_, so why is he so… he doesn’t know what it is.

For all he tries and all he thinks he _can’t_ name the feeling that is making his skin crawl and tickle all over his neck as soon as he thinks about meeting alone with Sugawara. 

Halfway through the train ride, his mouth becomes awfully sticky from the chocolate and caramel and of course, Yui didn’t pack him anything to drink. She could at least think these things _through_!

And so the first thing he does when he sees the sun again is buying himself a water.

_Skyfire_ Tower is not hard to miss. It stands taller than all the other buildings of the commercial district surrounding it and the glasshouse on top sparkles even in the faint sunlight, that is peeking through the layer of thin, grey clouds once in a while.

And also the bright red and orange phoenix logo of _Skyfire TV_ is pretty eyecatching.

Still, the entire construction does not thrill him half as much as the light-haired figure standing under the awning, tapping at his phone.

“Hey”, Daichi calls and waves hesitantly.

Sugawara looks up and beams at him. “Hey”

“Um… how are you?”, Daichi puts his hands into his pockets because he doesn’t know what else to do with them.

“Pretty fine and you?”, Suga clasps his hands behind his back and rocks back on his heels.

“Oh, urm, _good_, I guess”, Daichi now has to scratch his thigh. Was that _weird_? He _thinks_ so, but Suga still smiles at him. Daichi blinks a few times. Now _that_ was definitely too many times, _wasn't it_? His mouth is dry again but he doesn’t want to lick his lips, that would_ absolutely_ be awkward!

How is this so _complicated_? He just needs to talk. _Just_ a job, he reminds himself.

“Do… umn”, and now Suga looks a little flustered too, “you want to go upstairs?”

And Daichi realises he has just blankly stared at the ground for a good minute.

“_Yeah_!”, he says too fast and straightens his back, does his best to be normal. “Yeah, _please_, um, after you”

Suga nods and leads them inside.

Daichi follows him on the heel, pretty sure he is too close to the other. But he can’t figure out how long his steps _usually_ are. They seem too long but when he tries to make shorter ones he feels like he is_ creeping_.

Suga waves at the guard man, sitting at the reception and the man taps his cap in acknowledgement.

They get two visitor tags and a key card for the elevator.

Iwaizumi was right and Suga does know his way around. All the way to the elevators he hums and on their way up, two people greet him by name.

The cabin is _huge_ \- one could easily play street basketball in here!

Daichi doesn’t know what to say or do. He greets the people and when he’s asked he tells them he’s here for the decor.

After that, they are obviously not interested in him anymore.

He’s an underling after all.

And so he drifts off, only half-listening to the small talk next to him, that blends in and out when their temporary comrades get of the elevator again and Sugawara tapping his foot along with the music gets him into a little, dreamy haze.

Maybe that is why, he doesn’t realise they have stopped for a few seconds and only snaps out of it when there's a soft _tap_ against his biceps.

“We’re here”, the silver-haired smiles and offers him to exit first.

“_Oh_, uh thanks”, Daichi wants to scratch his neck, but he can resist the urge.

Why was it so _hot_? Or was that his imagination?

He forgets the heat instantly, as his eyes fall on the space beneath him.

The elevator is located in the ‘_building_’ part of the dome, elevated above the garden.

And it really _is_ a garden!

A gracious set of two symmetrical stairs, that remind Daichi of those European manors from the movies Yui made him watch years ago, swing down the porch and lead into the greenhouse.

“_Wow_”, right this moment he couldn’t tell his mother's name. He’s _that_ dumbfounded.

Behind them, the artfully sculpted elevator shaft in the form of a roaring firebird head casts a shadow into the well-lit park.

Sugawara next to him chuckles.

“I _know_ \- I never get used to this sight”, he sighs, dreamy and allows himself to simply let his gaze wander as well.

Then he gently bumps Daichi with his elbow and they make their way down the flat stairs.

The other leads him over the little paved space and along the pebbled walkways, that guide them along boxwood hedges, planted in triangles, squares and occasionally circles.

Every shape is filled with soft, emerald grass, little ponds or a variety of trees, complemented by wooden benches and lanterns along the walkways.

Daichi makes out palm trees, low growing spruces, knotty birches and a row of wide spreading weeping willows.

And high above them the glass spans the sky, reflecting and bathing them in daylight. The dome must be _at least_ ten stories high, maybe even more!

Walking like this, stone grating under his shoes, he really feels like he’s in a movie. 

Only that he’s not so much the noble British lord, going for a _fun_ walk in his gardens but rather the groundkeeper fearing for his head, if his master isn’t pleased with his work. He has broken a nervous sweat.

There are multiple crossroads but Sugawara pushes towards the willows.

“I thought this was going to be _small_?”, Daichi has to ask.

“Oh, it will be - the venue space is right behind the trees. It was just put on the other side from the elevator for privacy reasons and a better view and stuff”, the other explains just as they pass the first row of hanging branches. “The employees often spend their lunch break up here, but we should still have a comfortable two hours time, the roof is partially retractable and it’s really nice in summer but given the weather I think it will stay closed today.”

Daichi understands why the spatial apportionment was done this way, as soon as they step out of the willows.

The free, tiled space is flanked by trees on three sides, the fourth, ahead of them fades out into a soft lawn and, he can’t quite believe it, _an artificial hill_.

It has at least five metres elevation, Daichi estimates.

“How has this building not _collapsed_ yet?”, he mumbles more to himself but Sugawara still shrugs.

“I would like to tell you but _unfortunately_ I always fell asleep in my static and substances lectures”, he laughs, a little shy. 

Then he walks over to a little iron table and sets his messenger bag down.

“So, umn this is it. Behind the hill is the terrace but we won’t use that. It’s_ really only_ this space and maybe a little along the way, to show people the direction”, he says and pulls out a laptop.

A little too late, Daichi realises he should probably take notes but the way Sugawara is leaning forward, one leg cocked as he bends down to tap his keys, two strands slipping his soft bangs and falling over his face - it’s just so… so… _look-worthy_.

“Oh umn, _yes_, of course”, he stutters out and puts his own bag down, next to the others, taking out the notepad and the camera.

Daichi spends the next hour, listening to Sugawara, trying desperately not to _gawk_ too much at the way, his lips curl when he smiles or how the beauty mark under his eye is _twinkling_ at him, whenever he pauses to think.

The other shows him the temporary seating plan and how the tables will be arranged, using an elaborate 3D model of the venue, he has made.

“I can send this to you if you want to. You’ll either need to download the program or you’ll just get a static version with top and side views but then you don’t have to copy everything”, Suga offers him, when Daichi starts to copy the plans. Or well, given his non-existent artistic skills, _attempts_ to do so.

“Umn, my laptop is _really_ old, I don’t know if it can handle that much graphic data”, Daichi admits.

“Oh, I mean, I can also just take a screenshot. Then you can’t blend in and out measurements but you still have everything”, Sugawara thinks out loud and again his mole is smiling at Daichi, who is once again captured by the gentle line of the man’s profile.

_Get your act together!_, he scolds himself and rips his eyes away, mentally steeling himself. _You’re here on work, god damn it!_

“Ah, no problem, I think that should do”, he says and Suga nods.

Daichi gives him Yui’s and his E-Mail and they go on about this and that and everything they can come up with related to the job.

In the end his head is _swimming_ with numbers and measurements, ideas and colour schemes.

“Do they have favourite colours or something?”, Daichi asks while he tries to find a good angle to get as much as possible of the dome into one picture.

By now they have climbed the hill and Sugawara is sitting next to him in the grass, legs drawn to his chest.

“Oh so, _Iwaizumi_ likes light purples and _Oikawa_ is a green and blue kind of guy. But he _hates_ to choose so I wouldn’t say he has a favourite. Finding clothes for them is a _disaster_! I will _cry_ if I have to sit through _one more session_!”, he sighs and his head plops down onto his knees.

“_That_ bad?”, Daichi tries to keep steady while doing a panorama.

It doesn’t really have anything to do with the job anymore but he knows Yui will appreciate it.

“You have _no_ idea. They are like fire and ice. Raw, powerful, beautiful and creating perfect steam but fucking _exhausting_!”

“Who’s fire and who’s ice?”, he asks, looking down at Sugawara, who laughs.

“Hm, it’s not that easy”, he muses, staring up at the glass and the sky beyond. “They are both _both_. And when they are _each_ fire or _each_ ice, they are the best team I know, but when they are working _different_ ways it’s like… _pchrew_”, and he mimics an explosion and a mushroom cloud with his hands. 

Daichi puts the camera down, then he hesitantly sinks into the grass next to Sugawara, watching over the dome.

It’s like he has been transported to a fairyland and he dreads leaving.

The dome filters the light and reflects the occasional rays in a way that makes the air _sparkle_.

He thinks of something to say.

“I mean, they got this far, didn’t they”, he tries.

Sugawara smiles into his knees and flashes him a quick glance.

“_Yeah_ and if heaven and hell come crashing down and the last day has passed, they are _still_ gonna be there and they will _still_ fight over who ate the last kiwi”, he snorts with laughter.

It’s infective and Daichi can’t keep himself from smiling too, which only makes Sugawara grin wider and before they know they are both lying on their backs laughing like someone has made them sniff half a can of nitrous oxide.

Neither of them knows who started to giggle first but the fact is, Daichi has curled to his right in an attempt to get up and kill this childish fit in its core, only to _trip_, _stumble_ and _roll down_ the hill.

By the time everything has stopped spinning, Daichi thinks he might be _dead_. Maybe he broke his neck with his stupidity.

But _here he is_, laying on his back, ground feather-soft, an _unobstructed, glittering_ sky above him and an _actual angel_ laughing in his ear, prodding at his shoulder.

“_Oh gosh_, are you okay?”, the melodic voice asks and starlight strands of hair fall over a scrunched up face.

Sugawara is failing terribly at keeping a straight face.

“_Ow_”, Daichi grumbles, but his lips curl again before he can change anything about it.

His hip hurts when he sits up, but a soft hand between his shoulder blades, keeps him steady and evens out the pain a little.

“I’m _so sorry_, you wanted to get up and, and I… _good_, you…and I _tried_ to warn you, but… you were already falling _and_...”, the other doesn’t get more words out, because he is breaking into another delighted fit of giggles.

Daichi rubs at his hipbone, face burning bright red.

_Which way was the terrace again_? Hopefully, the railing wasn’t too difficult to climb.

“I slipped”, he tries to defend himself, but his voice is embarrassingly, tough _fittingly_, small.

Sugawara needs another five minutes to compose himself and by the time they pack their stuff together he too is bright red and avoids Daichi's eyes.

“Sorry”, he eventually mumbles on their way back to the elevator. “I didn’t mean to laugh at you like that”

“_Oh_.. it’s okay”, now Daichi has to scratch his neck. The motion is done too fast, to stop. “I was really _dumb_. Pretty sure I deserved that”, he breathes out.

When they reach the downwards elevator, a large bulb of people burst out the one leading upwards. They chat, many carrying lunch packs.

Daichi watches them spread across the park, settling in some of the open shapes and on the benches for small midday picnics.

The doors open with a '_bing_' and they enter.

The elevator ride is silent. 

Both of them are red-faced and have evolved a sudden, yet _intense_ interest in their shoelaces.

The further down they get, the more people join them and soon it is so packed, Daichi has lost sight of Sugawara.

And so, for the brief part of a second, he actively _panics_, when the doors open at the ground floor and the masses wash him away.

To his great relief he spots the silver head only a few steps into the entrance hall.

“_Sugawara_!”, he calls and the other turns to him, relieve washing over his face and he gestures to the side.

Daichi fights his way against the stream and squeezes himself out by some decor columns, Suga stepping into the free space behind him.

“_My gosh_, I totally forgot how cramped it gets here at lunchtime”, he gasps, resting his hands on his knees. “Sorry about that”

“It’s not your fault! Are you okay?”, Daichi asks, a little out of breath.

“_Yeah_”, and Sugawara straightens his back, sending him his usual warm smile.

Everything back to normal.

Daichi is a little disappointed. He liked crinkly-eyed Sugawara.

With a vigorous mental slap he stomps out that spark. 

_ No! _

**Stupid!**

They wait by the columns until the first mass has mainly passed by, then they join the few people heading towards the exit. 

As soon as they are out, Daichi takes a deep breath and shudders. Maybe he should have taken a thicker pullover with him. The temperatures have dropped quite the bit in the last hours.

“So, _umn_, thank you for taking the time off and showing me around”, Daichi says, closing up the zipper of his jacket.

“Yeah, no problem. I don’t really have a lot of work at the time. I mean, I _really_ need to clean up my office but _meh_”, Sugawara laughs and scratches his temple.

“No seriously. It was really nice!”, Daichi could kick himself the second the words are out.

_Really nice_? _What the heck_!?

Sugawara just blinks at him, cheeks slightly pinking. Surely from the fresh breeze and _nothing_ else!

“_Yeah_, umn”, Daichi chokes on his own words. “I guess, we'll see each other around!”, he contemplates to offer his hand, but he hesitates a second too long and so the other is the one to initiate it.

“Yes. For sure”, he says lightly, stretching out his slender fingers.

Daichi takes them and shakes. The pale hands are soft. But not sweaty or fleshy, no, _just soft_. Soft and firm and like feathers soothing his own rough ones.

They nod and turn to go their ways.

Only to bump into one another a second later.

“_Oh_ umn.. which way do you need to go?”, Suga asks.

Daichi just points down the street like the _dumbass_ he is.

“Me too, so… yeah _awkward_”, Sugawara tries to laugh it off lightly, but his face is bright red by now.

“Do you, umn, want to _walk together_?”, Daichi offers. Wow, that was _embarrassing_. And he doesn’t want the silver-haired to feel like he wants to get rid of him.

The other nods and Daichi's stomach makes a sudden and hysterical jump. It’s a movement that not only stirs his emotional digestion but also his physical as his middle emits a loud and intense growl.

Now it is his turn to light up redder than the phoenix logo above their heads.

And again, Sugawara only blinks at him with these infinitely gentle brown eyes, then their corners crinkle and he chuckles into his hand.

“Do you _maybe_ want to go eat lunch?”, he muses.

Daichi doesn’t know if that was a fail or a save, only that is was one of _epic_ proportions.

And he knows that he gets to eat one of the best grilled-cheese sandwiches he has ever had with some of the most special company he has ever had.

All while they don’t speak a single word under the shelter of the sandwich wagon, huddled together a little _too close_ so that they both fit next to the dozen other people, hiding from the gradually more chilling wind and he knows that he pays more attention to the little bit of tomato, smeared in the right corner of Sugawara’s lips, than to his lunch.

He knows not _why_ he does it, but he takes a napkin and brushes it away before he can stop himself.

And he remembers those surprised eyes that look at him, pure puddles of fondness and rosy cheeks, when he sits in the subway on his way back, feeling _colder_ than ever in his live.

Sawamura Daichi _knows_, that he knows _nothing,_ when the pain hits him and his patchwork heart is torn apart again and again _and again_.

He doesn’t go back to the shop, he runs up the stairs to his flat, he throws the door closed and he sinks into the darkest corner he can find, just in time for the anxiety attack to overwhelm him.

*******

Suga can’t help it. He has to touch his cheek again and again _and again_.

The people next to him probably think he has a disease or something.

And he knows he’s imagining it but he can still feel the warmth of Sawamura’s fingers through the thin paper napkin.

_Again_ his fingers trail up to the corner of his mouth.

_Tomato_.

He knows Iwaizumi works with this one guy, who always talks about horoscopes and lucky items.

Maybe Sugas lucky item today was just that: _a tomato_.

He pulls out his phone with one hand, the other still resting against his lips.

He _could_ google it. But that would ruin the magic to it, _wouldn’t it_?

_ Ruining the fucking magic is exactly what you need, you idiot! _

The rude voice of reason, that usually sounds like Kyotani, tells him.

_ God damn it! _

_ Have you learned nothing Koshi? _

He looks it up.

Apparently the item for Gemini today is a _brick stone_.

_ Yeah, a brick stone will do you some good! _

Maybe an entire wall of them.

_ To smash your head against until you lose that lovey-dovey bullshit, that will get you nothing but misery! _

Suga tells his own tiny Kentaro to shut the fuck up. He’s already neck-deep in misery! What does it matter now?

_ Then just jump and save yourself the pain. _

Fortunately enough Suga knows when not to listen to little mister grumpy pants.

That is what he has all his other friends in his head for, though not _all_ are useful.

_Kuro, for example,_ is mostly just _laughing_ at him.

_Matsun_ simply _blinks_ but it calms him.

_Oikawa_ lets him judge people's clothes in the_ nastiest_ of all ways.

_Konoha_ gets him full _Britney-Bitch_.

_Akaashi_ directs his gaze towards vacation magazines and tells him to just flip everything _gracefully_.

_Bokuto_ simply _hoots_ a lot and doesn’t help much, but he makes Suga smile and reminds him, there is fun in _everything_.

_Maki_ represents the inane desire for _weed_.

_Iwaizumi_ tells him, _not_ to listen to Maki.

_Yahaba_ takes him to the shooting range, getting _very creative_ in ways to murder random people that vaguely annoy him.

_Yaku_ does the same, only a little _less openly_ violent and with more usage of poison.

He isn’t quite sure what _Tendou_ does, but somehow he always ends up helping in the _weirdest_ way possible.

_Watari_ pats his back.

And _Kai_ tells him not to worry, everything _will_ unfold.

_That’s_ the voice Suga needs right now. That and maybe a _little bit_ of Bokuto too. A little bit of Bokuto is _never_ a bad idea.

He takes a deep breath and his hand clenches and relaxes around his smartphone.

_ Every problem is solvable. _

_Maybe_ it will involve poison, _maybe_ weed.

Most likely a _shit_ ton of alcohol but in the end, it _will be fixed_.

Even if he has to repeat the getting wasted part _multiple_ times.

He’ll figure it out _one day_ and if he doesn’t, he can still migrate to Nigeria. Or Russia. _Or Brazil_. 

He got the job at the gallery, he can get one at NASA for sure.

_ Mars sounds nice! _

Yes, maybe he will just migrate to outer space and all his emotional problems will be solved - _easy peasy_!

In the end, Suga finds an old, splintered brick on the sidewalk of his apartment building when he comes home later that day.

For some reason, he takes it with him.

In the kitchen, it falls on his foot and he curses as he sits at the floor, cradling his left toes.

It is from that perspective, that he sees a pack of cookies, that has slipped under his fridge.

It is unopened and still good.

He doesn’t remember when he bought it, but they are his favourite.

And_ that_ is how he ends up sitting on his kitchen tiles, squished toes, eating chilly and white chocolate cookies, with an old brick stone for company, googling space migration.

Maybe he needs to fundamentally _rethink_ his life.

*******

The next days run by, like a broken tab. One drop at a time, unnerving and maddeningly slow.

Yet when a week has passed, Daichi feels like he has just met Sugawara _hours ago_.

He hasn’t had attacks that bad in years.

To be honest he thought he had gotten rid of them.

Seems like he hasn’t.

_Shit_.

Yui immediately notices that he isn’t doing well and she _buries_ him in work.

As long as he is occupied he doesn’t have time for the thoughts trying to crush him to pieces.

She doesn’t lose a single word about the meeting, simply accepts the messenger bag back and goes through everything without Daichi's help.

He feels _terrible_ for letting her do everything, but he can’t handle it right now.

_ Not that! _

Everything else, but _not that_.

And then, a week and two days later, he feels like himself again and the thought of silver hair and soft eyes doesn’t make him want to throw up anymore.

He hugs Yui and she hugs him back without asking a single question, then they go through the plans she has made without him and he gives her his ideas and impressions.

They work out a hand full of rough sketches and concepts using Yui’s notes from their meeting and whatever information Iwaizumi and Oikawa have given her in the meantime.

Daichi contemplates to text Sugawara, apologizing for having overstepped like that.

But he doesn’t do it.

He doesn’t _know_ what to say, that sounds halfways human and not like a robot.

Sugawara deserves a _solid_ apology, not some sloppy text.

And also not a week later - it would feel _awkward_.

Maybe he has already forgotten about it. 

Hopefully, he has.

_ Please don‘t have. _

He leaves the communication to Yui. She‘s the boss after all.

That is why he‘s a little _surprised_ when he is once again doing his monthly accounting and receives a text _from Iwaizumi_.

He has to read it _twice_.

> _**(IH):** Hey, I remembered you said, you didn‘t have a team so if you are free next Thursday, you could join in with us. Are a little short on people at the time, so it‘d be a real asset. _

Daichi can‘t really _believe_ he is invited to a volleyball match with Iwaizumi and Oikawa. _Teenage him_ would have most likely fainted.

Oh, scratch that. He would have _definitely_ fainted!

Present him is hesitant.

He feels _honored_, for sure, but he can‘t help the fear he is getting into this _too deep_.

And also he is out of shape like you _would not believe_.

It is very certainly going to be a _disaster_.

But _Sugawara_ will be there.

He could test the atmosphere.

For a moment he contemplates, asking Yui for advice. But an inner voice tells him, she will _not_ be much help!

_ Maybe flipping a coin will help? _

Daichi rummages through the desk, but he doesn‘t have one at hand.

He stares down at his spendings list and thinks.

If he starts to go for a morning jog tomorrow, maybe it‘s possible to avoid _absolute_ embarrassment.

> _**(You):** I‘d be honored. But I haven‘t played in ages, so I won’t be much help._

He eventually writes back, then returns to the bills he has been examining.

The answer comes a little less than a minute later:

> _**(IH):** Eh, don‘t worry. Can‘t be that bad._

Daichi snorts to himself, tempted to disagree.

But he doesn‘t, because with a second vibration he‘s send an address.

> _**(IH):** We‘ll start roundabout 7pm, but you can come whenever you can. _

Daichi looks up the street on _Google_.

Somewhere in the warehouse district, close to the freight terminal.

> _**(You)**: Will be there. _

The second he has sent, his stomach churns nervously.

But now it‘s too late.

"Hey, can you give me the file? I‘m meeting with Iwaizumi and Oikawa next Thursday. I could give it to them then“, Daichi asks Yui over their lunch and she raises her eyebrows.

"_What_?“, she smacks, mouth half full. "Who allowed you to do business without me?“, she grins and Daichi cringes. He had _no_ need to know how grilled _and chewed_ cheese looks.

"It‘s not on business. I… they asked if I was interested in joining on their volleyball training“, he tells her and her face lights up.

_Will Sugawara be there?_, is written all over her demeanour, as she expectantly blinks at him with wide eyes. But, to her credit, she does not ask the question out loud.

"I _don‘t know_“, he snaps back still.

Yui munches at him, then she swallows and pointedly says: "I didn‘t say _anything_!"

"You didn‘t _have_ to! Your poker face is _horrible_!“, Daichi takes another bite out of his own wrap.

"Oh, _you_ are one to talk! Your default face is '_kicked puppy' _\- as if _that_ is any better!“, she huffs.

Daichi rolls his eyes as he chews.

"Can you now, or do you still want to change something?“, he asks her again when he has swallowed down.

"_Actually_“, and she puts down her food, to reach for her ice tea, "I _already_ send Oikawa our first brainstormings just this morning. Maybe he hasn‘t shown it to Iwaizumi yet"

Daichi sighs. She _could_ have told him that. Then again. He came in, greeted her and went straight to the back to finish up his lists today. He was a little behind schedule.

"But if you meet next week, maybe they can already give it back to you with a few suggestions of their own", she thinks out loud.

Daichi shrugs.

Maybe. 

It would be good, as it would give them extra time in their planning.

But he doesn‘t want to stress it. They are busy people.

*******

"I‘m _bored,_ Iwa-Chan“, a heavy head _clonks_ down on the table and makes their board shake.

"_Wow_, easy there - _my hote_l!“, Hanamaki carefully rearranges the little plastic building, like he is caring for a baby kitten.

"Your fault for being so shitty with money, _Trashykawa_!“, Iwaizumi gnashes out as he scans the board and shoots a discrete look across the table, where the king of the game is receding.

Suga has an unusually strong run today. Most other times it is Hanamaki, who dominates their _Monopoly_ nights.

But _not_ this time, oh no!

And that little _shit_ has the nerve to grin over his row of properties.

A row, stretching all the way from '_Kentucky Avenue_' down to the '_Short Line_', that he has built with stone-cold and precise methods.

That‘s how he has managed to run Oikawa out of business and gotten Iwaizumi and Kuro to both fear for their livelihoods.

His only hope now are the '_B&O Railroad_‘, which he owns or '_Water Works_', that belongs to the dark-haired bedhead who is filling in for Matsukawa.

_Maybe that is it_, Iwaizumi thinks, as he blows at the dice, praying for good luck. Matsukawa is an absolute expert at reading Suga. Maybe it is his absence that allows their silver head to run wild like this?

"Come on, Suga, you can get him!“, Bokuto hoots and his head bobs up and down.

At least they were wise enough to announce Kotarou warden of the bank because _damn_, nobody needs _his_ mood swings when he has to pay rent. At least not without Akashi to smooth them out again.

"_Hey_, you‘re supposed to be a neutral party, you traitor!“, Kuro hisses.

_Thank you_, Iwaizumi thinks as he rolls.

Jittery he awaits the dices judgement.

Maybe he should not have been that mean to his sister, that one time twenty years ago, because he goes straight to '_North Carolina Avenue_'. _Fuck_.

Time to try something different then.

"Oh, _by the way_, I invited Sawamura for next Thursday“, he drops, _as casually_ and random as possible and carefully moves his top-hat figurine while Suga stares hat him, mouth agape.

"You _what_?“, he squeaks, not at all paying attention to the game anymore. _Perfect, it‘s working!_

Iwaizumi discretely hands Kuro the dice. _Come on, now roll before he realizes I owe him money_, Iwaizumi urges his friend mentally.

"Yeah, you know. I was worried we won‘t be enough people with so many on break, so I called for backup“, he leans back, doing his best to convey innocence and pureness.

"I can‘t _believe_ you did that!“, Suga buries his face in his hands.

_ Yes, yes, yes. Now roll Kuro, roll! _

"And you owe me 900 dollars, Iwaizumi!“, Suga muffles through his fingers.

"_Shit_!“, he slams his hand down on the table and Kuro crackles like a hyena.

"_My hotel_!“, Maki repeats, more insistent, as he has to reposition his '_Park Place_' building once more.

Iwaizumi begrudgingly counts through his paper money. Just _barely_ he can scrape enough together.

"Here, you _devil_!“, he hisses as he hands it over, then shoots Kuro a distasteful look.

"_Wow_, why _me_“, the other lifts his hands, pacifyingly.

"You _could_ have just _rolled_!“, Iwaizumi grits out.

"I would _never_ willingly jeopardize my friends“, the taller one puts his hand over his chest like he _actually_ meant it. _Backstabbing son of a bitch!_

"We need Matsun back!“, Oikawa announces grouchy, head still on the table, but his sharp eyes are following the game.

_"I like this_ \- and I know _exactly_ who is going to go down next!“, Suga tells them, smiling but his eyes say murder. "I. Am. _Building_"

A collective groan.

Fortunately for Iwaizumi, it is Takahiro who bites the dust next. He is unlucky enough to hit '_Atlantic Avenue_' and '_Marvin Gardens_', both with hotel, one after the other and has to sell his own to get by.

After that, it is a matter of two rounds before he hits rock bottom and has to hand his properties over to Kuro.

Only _then_ does Suga grind Iwaizumi into the ground and reduces him to a little pile of ashes.

By the time he throws his cards over the table, Oikawa wraps his arms around him, patting his back.

"You fought bravely!“, he purrs and kisses his cheek.

He smells _positively_ of alcohol, since Bokuto and he have opened a bottle of red wine and, _holly shit_, are already on the second!

Iwaizumi gets himself a glass before that one is empty _too_. The hand massaging his thigh and the warmth in his throat make his defeat fractionally better.

They spend another half an hour watching Kuro perform one _ridiculous_ stunt after the other, to ensure good luck and _somehow_ it works because he always escapes Suga by a hair.

Iwaizumi decides to take notes on how to dance around the table in order to please the gods of fortune.

In the end, Kuro is left on a '_Community Chest_', with three dollars remaining in his pocket and all his properties on mortgage.

"_Die_!“, Suga screams at him, half standing. He too has had a couple of glasses red wine by now.

"_Never_!“, Kuro yells back.

"_Fight_!“, Bokuto chimes in, hands clasped around the empty bottle like he is moderating a wrestling match.

"Tear his limbs off!“, Hanamaki hollers, hanging over Suga's shoulder.

Oikawa is silent, but his eyes follow the dice like they are made out of gold.

Iwaizumi chews on his fingernails.

"_Come on_, Kuro!“, he hisses.

Their friend takes a _deep_ breath, shakes the dice _left_, shakes them _right_, turns around his own axis counterclockwise twice, then he throws them elaborately.

The first one _clonks_ down. _2_.

The second is spinning and spinning and _spinning_ _and_…

Loud wailing and Suga jumps up.

"_Hah_!“, he yells.

Kuro sinks to the ground with a loud moan. "_Noooooooooooo_"

Bokuto gracefully stands up, takes Suga by the hand, then solemnly declares: „_We have a victor_!“, and rips their hands skywards, narrowly avoiding their drop light.

Iwaizumi looks down at Kuro, who has sprawled out on the floor. "My life is meaningless. Kenma will _never_ forgive me!“, he croaks pitifully.

"That‘s the universes payback for not covering me!“, Iwaizumi tells him.

"_Oh_, bring Kenma-Chan next time, that will be fun!“, Oikawa chirps and Hanamaki burst into laughter.

"You _want_ him to get into a fist fight with Issei again?“, he grins with a shiteating expression.

"It _was_ fun“, Oikawa shrugs his shoulders.

"As long as we don‘t play _MarioCart_ again, they should be fine“, Bokuto informs them with a sincere face.

"Please _don‘t_! I can live without a repeat of last time“, Iwaizumi groans. Something tells him, the weird rivalry their lamp post and Kozume-San have formed, will extend over _all_ _kinds_ of games. _Not just MarioCart!_

He is caught up in his thoughts and misses Kuros reply. It must have been something funny because Oikawa grins and Bokuto has decided to sit down on the floor too, fondly petting his best friends hair.

Considering he‘s a little drunk it is no surprise, he smacks him in the face instead.

The dark-haired groans and rolls over, away from the overly friendly _owl-human_, trying to comfort him.

"Iwaizumi, _seriously_, _please_ tell me you were joking", he flinches away, when Suga appears out of nowhere by his side, eyes large and begging.

For a moment he can‘t really sort the question into a category and scrunches up his face._ Joking about what?_

"_Daichi_? That you invited him?", Suga's voice is small.

"_Oh_", yeah right, "Nah, I _did_. Because seriously, a lot of people already said, they can‘t come next week!“, he shrugs.

Oikawa drapes himself over his back, watching their friend, whose hands have started to twitch. _As_ have his eyebrows. Either he is going to kill them or have a panic attack. Iwaizumi can‘t pin point it yet.

"But _whyyyyy_, he‘s going to _hate_ me! You are a disaster and are going to scare him away“, Suga whines lowly and now the wine is speaking, because he starts to frantically nibble at his fingers.

Iwaizumi exchanges a quick look with Oikawa, then his partner sighs and reaches around him.

"Ko, _hands_! And also _hey_! We are not _that_ bad“, he tells him firmly, pulling pale fingers away from the other's teeth.

Their friend sulks almost immediately.

"_Yes we are_ and that's exactly why you should be grateful. Zumi just got you the _perfect_ excuse to stare at his ass for _literal_ hours, without being weird and if we manage to scare him off, your problem is solved either way“, Hanamaki pokes Suga in the side, playfully.

For a moment Suga's face brightens, then it scrunches up and he starts to abuse his lower lip instead.

_Oh damn_, this is going to be a tough one!

"I‘m a _setter_, Hiro, I stand in the _front_. The only thing I get to stare at is your ugly-ass face on the other side of the net!“, Suga grumbles, then he pulls his hands out of Oikawa's and cracks his knuckles.

"_Shots fired_“, Kuro wheezes, still on the floor.

Bokuto has managed to pin him down by now and is proudly sitting on his best friend’s back, making it a little hard for him to breathe.

Hanamaki gasps in fake indignation. "How _dare_ you", he huffs.

Suga sticks out his tongue at him.

Iwaizumi doesn‘t know if that is an improvement to before or not.

He exchanges another glance with Oikawa, who just shrugs and nuzzles his chin deeper into Iwaizumi's shoulder.

"You comfortable?“, he asks and the other chirps happily.

He rolls his eyes. _I need more alcohol for this!_

_ Suga needs more alcohol for this! _

Maybe they can start practising volleyball at a bar?

_Yes, that sounds like a good idea_.

It‘s a little later than midnight when they break it up.

Suga hasn‘t mentioned Sawamura again and a small part of Iwaizumi likes to think, he made his peace with it.

Unfortunately, the _larger_ part of him knows Suga too well, to believe that.

Especially when his friend hugs him goodbye and whispers: "We are _not_ done yet", into his ear.

And then he smiles, like nothing happened, hugs Oikawa and follows Maki and Bokuto down the corridor, towards the elevator. Yep, there is stage two drunken Suga:_ Murder-mode._

"Try to stay in one piece till Thursday! I recommend _pop-tarts_ as a peace offering“, Kuro pats him on the shoulder and Iwaizumi sighs.

"Doing my best“, he informs him weakly and waves after his friends.

Then he allows Oikawa to close the door and pull him back to the broad sofa.

"He‘ll get over it“, the other murmurs as he drapes himself along Iwaizumi, tangles their legs and rests his head against his chest. The alcohol is starting to unfold its full effects. 

Oikawa, like most humans, has three stages of drunkenness.

_First_ he gets overly sharp and quiet, watching like a hawk, sorting through his prey. Then he gets _touchy_, wants to constantly hug or cuddle against Iwaizumi's back.

And at last, he gets slurry and sloppy, but _very_ energetic.

And so, barely able to keep his eyes from falling shut, he tries to work open the buttons of Iwaizumi's shirt.

Funny enough, Oikawa isn‘t subject to quantity but to _time_. It doesn‘t matter if he empties a whole bottle of tequila on his own or zips a single glass of wine.

Either way, after two hours, you will end up with an equally drunk Tooru.

Iwaizumi sighs and runs his hands through his partner's hair.

"Yeah, the question is just,_ how long_ he will be pissed before he does. Remember that one time he didn‘t talk to Matsun for an entire month?“, he gently takes the lanky fingers, slipping under his belt, back out and laces them together with his own.

"_Oh_, that was _ugly_“, Oikawa slurs and does his best to stretch far enough for neck kisses. But he is laying a little too low and only manages to nibble at his collarbone. "Did he say anything about the meeting?"

"Only that it went well and he gave him the plans. He was very business about it. _Too_ business", Iwaizumi sighs and bends down.

His partner makes a happy, gasping noise and starts to work on his neck.

"_Hey_, Shittykawa, no biting!“, Iwaizumi redraws and Oikawa pouts at him. "Inviting him to training was _your_ idea and I really hope this doesn‘t come back to bite us in the ass!", he then grumbles.

"I‘d have no problem with you biting my ass“, Oikawa smirks against his chest, looking up at him with slightly glassy, yet _coy_ eyes.

Time to end this then, before it escalates.

"Alright, shit-head. You are very clearly not sober enough to talk about important things - time for bed“, he grins and shakes his head.

Oikawa resists for a little more, trying to get his belt open, constantly pouting at him but Iwaizumi lifts him up effortlessly and throws him over his shoulder.

There is a loud _burp_ and he halts.

"Oikawa?“

"_Sorry_“, comes the weak chuckle.

Iwaizumi shakes his head again, with a big grin painting his face.

*******

Daichi checks the address for the _eighth_ time. Maybe the ninth.

This _can‘t_ be right, can it?

He knows people get creative when space is limited, but right now he is staring up a rundown and grimy archway, high enough to easily let even the largest truck through.

If he steps a little to the left and looks along the street passing though, he can see the towering containers of the freight depot.

To his sides, old brick buildings sprout into the sky, every once in awhile interrupted by more modern ones, but those look shabby too.

_Everything_ this close to the train tracks looks questionable.

Daichi checks his phone again, but this _is_ the address Iwaizumi sent him.

Maybe he made a typo? Or confused it with something from his work? Maybe Daichi should call him.

Then again, he is almost a quarter-hour early.

He planned extra time on his way and now he is standing here.

He looks up and down the street again.

_Nothing_ here looks like a gym.

But his phone shows him, he‘s standing right where he is supposed to be.

Maybe this address exists twice and _Google Maps_ is messing with him?

Daichi turns around again.

Behind him, the street rises steeply towards one of this area's main roads, where the bus station is located. That is the way he came from, no gym there.

To his left is a building, who’s facade shows a sign, informing him, it houses a painting and paperhanging company. To his right is another one, build from darker bricks, without any clues what it might be.

And in front and over him is the archway, supporting a warehouse on top.

The tunnel underneath it leads towards the freight station and is at least a hundred metres long.

He checks it up and down, but the solid stone is only interrupted by a single steel door, that looks like a maintenance way to him.

Out of alternatives, he adjusts his bag and takes a look at it _anyways_. It is blank iron, covered with faded stickers and has an old padlock.

"_Yo_“, someone talks right behind him, and Daichi swirls around.

He‘s looking at two men, about his age.

The taller one has shoulder-length, sandy hair, narrow eyes and a bit of a sleazy face. He seems of rather average height, but his posture is slightly slouched.

The shorter has tan skin, a bald head and looks at him friendly and with open interest.

"_Uhh_", Daichi doesn‘t know what to do. Does he _know_ them?

They look him up and down, then the sandy-haired one straightens up a bit and grins like a fox. „You‘re Flowers Guy, _aren‘t ya_?“, he asks.

Daichi does his best, not to turn redder than a stop signal.

"_Yeah_, you _are_ Flowers Guy!“, the man snickers and then he throws up a set of shining keys and catches them casually. "Iwaizumi said, you‘d be coming"

Oh, okay, that explains it.

"Yes, _umn_. I‘m Sawamura Daichi“, he says and offers his hand, but the man just walks past him.

The shorter rolls his eyes.

"Ignore _him_, he never learns that he isn‘t _cool and easy_ but an ass, so don‘t bother“, he snorts and shakes his hand. "Watari Shinji and _the_ _idiot_ is Konoha Akinori."

"The idiot has the keys and is not going to let you in if you run your mouth like that!“, Konoha calls over from the steel door.

That was _actually_ the entrance?

Watari begs him to follow and so Daichi walks through the door behind him.

"Just recline it. The others will come soon, I think", their leader calls from above and Daichi does as he is told.

Then he climbs the, surprisingly clean and newly plastered, staircase following his two new companions.

They go up _at least_ two stories, but it is hard to tell since there are no other doors or opportunities to leave the stairs. Only the white spiral, that goes up and up and _up and_…

Daichi almost bumps into Watari, as the other suddenly stops. 

There is more key rustling and a door swings open.

"_Urgh_, light, where is the damn _light_“, he can hear Konoha curse and the sound of footsteps echoing through a generous space.

"Six steps to the right, metal box, waist-high“, Watari tells him and moves after his acquaintance.

"That means _knee-high_ for me, got it“, the other crackles from inside the darkness and Watari rolls his eyes very audibly.

There is a clicking and a switch is turned, then the ceiling hums and bright neon tubes flicker to life.

Daichi has to shield his eyes for a moment before he grows used to it and can take in the sight.

He rubs at his eyes just to make sure. _Where_ did that gym come from?

"Where _are_ we?", he asks, a little dumbfounded. Up here is enough space for _two_ volleyball fields next to each other and the place looks _neat_. High ceiling, with retractable basketball baskets and new and smooth wood panelling on the walls.

He feels like he is somewhere in a fancy studio downtown and has not just crawled out of some shady underpass.

"Warehouse above the archway“, Konoha calls over as he closes the metal cabin and kicks off his shoes.

Watari has the grace to do so, before walking into the gym and Daichi follows him suit.

"There is a bathroom in the back of that supply chamber, but unfortunately no shower", the shorter man tells him and Daichi nods along. "Water is actually drinkable there"

_ Good to know. _

They put their stuff down by a row of benches, at the far side of the hall and Konoha looks him up and down again.

"So, what position do you play?“, he asks.

"Wing Spiker“, Daichi tells him, as he folds his jacket.

"_Noice_, same here“, the man grins and Daichi smiles back, a little insecure, then he looks at the third man present.

"Libero“, Watari prods his chest.

Daichi nods again, a little awkward. They keep looking at him, _understandably_, but he doesn’t know how to react. _Or_ what to say, that doesn‘t feel forced.

Apart from the customers in Yui's shop, he hasn’t met new people in _years_ and his social skills are rusty at best.

Fortune, however, saves him or _dooms_ him, both are _very possible_, as there are footsteps coming up the stairs and chatter drifts up the case.

"_All_ I am telling you is, that you _could_ if the timing is right“, says an unknown male voice.

"It’s still murder Takahiro“, that is Iwaizumi, sounding a little gruff.

"True, _but_, if you consider the aspect of article twenty-one, paragraph seven as piece of a longer…“

"… it is _still_ murder“

"Let him _speak_, Hajime, I am _intrigued_“, and that is Oikawa.

Konoha and Watari exchange a grin and Daichi watches as first Iwaizumi, then Oikawa kick off their shoes and walk into the room. Between them the man, trying to get away with murder.

He is tall, has short, strawberry-blond hair and _mischievously_ glittering eyes.

His left ear has a little nick in it and _only_ because Yui has the _exact same_ hollow, he knows the man has once been pierced - and that at least three times. Other than that, he looks average but somehow a guttural instinct tells Daichi _not_ to cling to that assumption.

"_Ah_, you found it, _good_“, Iwaizumi brightens up, as soon as he sees Daichi and shakes his hand.

Then he bumps his fist casually with the other two and mumbles a quiet: "If I have to listen to this any longer, _I_ will commit murder“, to which Watari just pats his back, like he is _all too_ _used_ to this kind of conversation.

"Well then it might help you, if you pay attention, _Hajime_“, the strawberry-blond sneers with a shit-eating grin.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes.

"No I _don’t_, because nobody is going to miss _you_, so I can just drop you into some _ditch_ and the thing is _done_“, Iwaizumi throws his duffle bag under the bench and his shoes alongside it.

Oikawa snickers, then he hugs Konoha and Watari.

"Where did you leave Komi“, he asks the former.

"Got himself a cold"

"And KyoKen and Shigeru-Chan?"

"Work and Work“, Watari sighs.

Oikawa joins in, then he too takes note of Daichi and flicks him a wide grin.

"Nice to see you here"

"Thanks for the invitation“, Daichi replies, uncertain, if _maybe_ he should _bow_?

But he isn’t granted the second he needs to determine this because an arm slings around his neck and a long: „_Sooooooooooo_“, sounds right next to his ear.

"_You_ are Flowers Guy“, the strawberry-blond clicks his tongue. It is not a question anymore.

"I… _guess_. Yes, umn… Sawamura Daichi, pleased to…“

"My _god_, you are _adorable!"_

"…meet y…_what_?“, now he is completely thrown off and also turning positively red.

But the other man has already let go of him and is now patting him on the back. "Welcome to _The Society_, monthly admission fee may be paid in blood sacrifices or _Doritos_, whatever you prefer", he informs him, _very_ seriously, then he walks over to his own bag and pulls his shirt over his head.

Daichi just stares blankly into the air._ What the hell?_

Konoha looks like he is about to choke on the laughter he is trying to hold back and Watari and Oikawa are snickering into their hands.

Iwaizumi facepalms himself.

"You know, Suga was _right_. You are _nothing_ but an _embarrassment_!", he mumbles defeated. "This is _exactly_ why people avoid us"

"Speaking of the devil, where did you leave him?“, Watari asks in an attempt to change the topic.

Daichi's brain is still rebooting from its emergency shut-down.

"Matsun is getting him - don’t know what is taking them so… _ah_, Saru-San, Kai-San, you made it“, Oikawa begins, but his face lights up when new people enter the hall and come over to them.

Only seconds later another, small man jogs up the stairs, who later introduces himself as Yaku Morisuke.

The next twenty minutes Daichi has to introduce himself again and again _and again_ and on top of that remember all the new names, thrown at him.

Iwaizumi tells him, that the strawberry-blond is named Hanamaki Takahiro and _he too_ has played for Seijoh.

Daichi feels like he _vaguely_ knows Yaku and Kai, but he can’t pin down from _where_. Probably because they met briefly at some tournament or something. In general he learns, all connections here were made during High School years and via volleyball. Most through Sugawara as Hanamaki points out and indeed he thinks he can allocate some faces.

Just as he is through with introductions and his head is already smoking with information, two more men enter, who greet him as Ohira Reon and Sasaya Takehito.

Daichi immediately recognizes the bulkier of them as '_Benkei'_, one of Shiratorizawa's top players in his year.

He wonders what Oikawa's arch-nemesis is doing here - _but we all grow up_, he supposes.

And just as they have passed him and join in on the lively chatter with their friends, he bumps into someone else.

Hastily Daichi turns around, apology already on the _tip_ of his tongue, but the eyes, cutting him like scalpels, slice in half the words he was about to say and only a croak leaves his throat.

The man is tall, maybe the tallest among everyone present, has short, black curls, falling a little over his oval eyes, a pronounced upper lip and a goatee. He squints down at Daichi, examining him.

Then he hums, thoughtful.

„I.. _sorry_, I didn’t mean to… bump… into…“, Daichi forces the words out his clenched throat.

The man blinks at him, crooks his head and looks him up and down again, then he huffs and shrugs.

„Don’t sweat it“, he tells him, as if the bare act of talking was too much of a hassle and walks past him.

„_Ey_, Matsun, where is Ko-Chan?“, the strawberry-blond, Hanamaki, _right_, _that_ was his name, calls over and directs the main attention towards the tall man.

„Outside, on the phone. Seems to be urgent, some problem at work. And he’s _stressed_“, the tall one says, bumping his fist around and the precise energy, that Daichi has just moments before seen in his sharp eyes is gone. Now they seem disinterested and hazy.

Oikawa sighs, but gives him a welcoming hug.

They wait until everyone has changed and start to warm up.

Now Daichi is glad, that he took those morning jogs, because he barely gets his hands to his feet like this and he does _not_ want to know how stiff he would have been _without_ his renewed sportive routine. 

Konoha bumps his shoulder and grins. "Been a while, _eh_?“, he asks, with only a little mischief, as he puts his knee into Daichi's back and sinks down with his entire weight.

Daichi lets out a _huff_, as he is forcibly stretched forwards and grunts out a short, "_Yeah_, could say that“

He sure gets a few looks, some of them very judging, but in the end, he survives warm-up without dying, although he very much feels like it.

Iwaizumi is just about to say something a little cardboard box in hand, when hasty footsteps come up the stairs.

"Frankly Ikedate-San, _I do not care_! You got the damn thing _in_, you will get it out _somehow_“, Sugawara kicks his shoes off, and leaves them by the stairs, then he walks into the gym, phone pinched between cheek and shoulder, hands flapping ecstatically through the air.

"No I... - Yes - _Yes_! - No I don… - Can this wait? - Okay - Okay _fine_, I will.. - Yes, I will look it up right now, _geez_!“, he sounds exhausted, out of breath and just about done.

He gives them a short wave, eyes lingering on Daichi for just a second, pupils growing wide as he spots him and hangs up, cursing under his breath, hair in disarray, like he has ruffled it multiple times, just like he does now, looking hounded and running his hand through silver bangs.

"Everything okay?“, Iwaizumi asks.

"Yes… _no_, it’s just… _urgh_“, Suga throws his hands up and drops his messenger bag and his duffle bag next to the bench, that is by now disappearing under a pile of clothes and rummages through his things.

Daichi notices how Iwaizumi exchanges a look with Oikawa, Hanamaki and the tall guy. They just shrug and he sighs.

"I just… need to sort something out, you start without me!“, Suga calls over his shoulder as he pulls out his laptop and hunches down on the floor, mumbling something to himself, that does _not_ sound like sunshine and rainbows.

Iwaizumi looks like he wants to tell him something more, but if he does, he decides against it and holds out the box.

"_Alright then_. You all met Flowers Guy already, so let’s get started. We are twelve, so we’ll just rotate without exchanging the libero and… _hold up_“, he scans the rows again, then he sighs and mumbles a short "Are you _fucking_ kidding me?“, before lifting his voice and calling: "_Suga_, we need you. For once in a thousand years, we are short a setter!“

Konoha snorts loudly and another man, Daichi's brain can momentarily not assign a name too, groans. "_Seriously_?“, he asks in disbelieve.

Daichi looks around, a little confused and taken off the mix between embarrassment and indignation. Ohira notices him and gently explains: "The _Aoba Johsai_ team alone has _four_ setters. Usually we have about a whole team just playing that position, so having just one never happened before“

Daichi nods.

Suga in the meantime is still typing at his laptop.

"_Ko-Chan_, you are needed!“, Oikawa calls now.

"Can’t Watari set?“, Suga calls back, only looking up, to scan the group briefly.

"Then we’re short a libero“, Hanamaki chimes in.

In a split second, Daichi makes a decision.

"I… umn, can _try_“, he offers. A few confused faces.

"I was a defensive specialist for my team, I think I can try to play libero“, he explains, trying to make his voice sound as solid as possible. He is _proud_ of himself, that he manages.

He is even prouder at the thankful glance, Sugawara offers him, before going straight back to work.

Iwaizumi sighs, shrugs and announces: "Alright then, let’s try. So we have _Team Yaku and Oikawa_ and _Team Watari and Flowers Guy_“, before holding out the little box, he has been holding.

One after another the player reach into it, eyes closed and draw a paper.

Daichi ends up on a team with Iwaizumi,_ thank all gods_, Sasaya - _that's_ his name -, Sarukui, who insist, that: "Just Saru is fine“ and of all people the tall guy.

He is a little afraid to ask for his name, but he fights down the fear and approaches him anyways.

Daichi though meeting _Oikawa_ was stressful, but that man is putting him on edge, because for some reason, he is making it _very_ clear, that he doesn’t like Daichi and he can’t,_ for Pete's sake_, figure out _why_. Have they met somewhere before? Did he do something offensive? 

And so, when the man stares down at him, eyes squinted and silent, Daichi honestly thinks he will not get an answer and he starts to break a sweat.

„Matsukawa“, the information comes after a pause so _long_, Daichi has almost forgotten the initial question and the sudden answer takes him by surprise.

„_Oh_… Okay!“, he nods, then walks over to his position.

And as he looks forwards, sees the net, all his social doubts are gone. He’s _on a court_ again. He is _playing_ again!

And with the euphoria and adrenaline comes a new, different wave of fear.

Because there he is, looking at the backs of practised men and he feels once again like a bloody beginner! They expect him to have their backs and he doesn’t even know, if he still remembers how to hold a ball.

_You shouldn’t have taken your mouth so full, damn it!_, he scolds himself, biting his lip.

Iwaizumi picks a coin out of his lottery box and tells them: "Heads for Oikawa, tails for Saru“ and flips it skillfully.

There is a collective groan when the result turns out to be heads.

"Oh _fuck_! Any wishes for your gravestone, Flowers Guy?“, Sasaya asks Daichi, and there is pity in his joking tone of voice.

Oikawa's serves are _brutal_, that much Daichi remembers, but he is too taken aback by that nickname, to really think about it.

"_Relax_, you got this. Take it easy!“, Iwaizumi calls from the front and gives him a thumbs up.

Daichi's stomach churns.

But he nods and tries to relax, tries to breathe and focus back on the game and _not_ his hurt ego.

_Just_.

**Breathe**.

And _focus_.

On the other side of the court his opponent walks up, gives the ball an experimental spin. And they lock eyes.

Scorching fire and a roaring storm of raw power meet Daichi head-on and Oikawa smiles.

Smiles and at the absentminded whistle of Sugawara, who is only half paying attention, he sets the gym ablaze.

Daichi can see Oikawa's movement and the curve of the ball, as if the world around him had slowed. The loud thud of a flat palm hitting leather seems to travel only half as fast as the ball whipping through the air.

His muscles react on their own, memories and techniques, he thought were long forgotten, come crashing back down on him, as his legs move, pulled by invisible strings.

He takes a step to the side, solidifies his stance and stretches out his arms.

He can _still_ do it!

And just as confidence washes up inside him, he realizes he _can’t_.

He may not have _forgotten_ the theory, he may not have _lost_ his skills. But _did_ leave behind his precision!

The very second before the impact, Daichi realizes two things: _First_, Sugawara is looking _directly_ at him and _second_, while his form is almost perfect he is _a step too far_ in the front.

Like a missile, the ball hits his upper arms and all air is pressed from his lungs.

The ankle is _wrong_, he didn’t receive it correctly!

The strength behind the serve is _way_ more than he expected.

For a second he fights with his balance, pushes his arms out, nonetheless, then the ball rejects him and soars straight into the air.

While he falls, he can hear Watari call "It’s up, I got it! _Iwaizumi_!“

Then the field and his teammates, dip out of his vision he hits the ground hard.

Hollering sounds through the gym. Was it a victory? Or had he failed?

The _few_ molecules of breathable air, the ball _hasn’t_ hammered out of his chest, are now and his head rings from the impact.

But mostly his arms hurt like hell. Like a truck had rolled over him, at least that’s what he imagines it must feel like.

"Oh my god, _Daichi_!“, someone calls out his name and he feels a hand rest against his cheek.

"_Ow_“, he groans out and opens his eyes.

Soft, brown eyes are staring down at him, darkened with concern.

"'m fine“, he presses out and sits upright.

_Ouch_. Fucking _ouch_!

"What _the hell_ was that?“, he grits out and coughs, desperately sucking air into his compressed lungs.

"_That -_ was one point for us!“, Iwaizumi grins at him, giddy. "Borderline insane, but fucking _amazing_!“

Daichi rubs the back of his head and takes another shaky breath.

How can a single human being possess enough strength to hit a ball like that?

He looks across the court and Oikawa stares back. There is surprise in his eyes. 

At first. And then they _change_. Change into something feral, something thirsty.

Something out for _blood_.

"_I’ll eat a broomstick_! _Sawamura Daichi_! _Damn_, I’d recognize that ass anywhere!“, someone yells across the hall and Daichi blinks, confused.

Sugawara seems to realize, he still has his hand on Daichi's shoulder and _immediately_ takes a hasty step back, dusting off his thighs.

"I’ll warm up“, he mumbles, while Daichi turns and twists, to see who the hell is calling him there.

His jaw _drops_.

Of _course_, _now_ he knows from where he knew Yaku and Kai. He’s seen them once, at a bus stop in Tokyo and he has looked at their picture in the background of a phone, countless times!

"Kuro, _fucking_, Tetsuro!“, he exclaims, still breathless and fights his way up to his feet.

"Man, that was _crazy_! No one receives em head-on like that! You _still_ got a death wish, or what?“, the dark-haired laughs, and slaps Daichi across the shoulders.

Iwaizumi looks from one to the other. By now, the formation has broken and even their opponents are slinking over, onto their side of the field.

Some exchange greetings with two men, who have come in alongside his old acquaintance. 

A brick of a guy, with a back so muscular it is making Iwaizumi look like an _asparagus_ and with spiked black and white hair.

The other is slender, has soft black hair, a very disciplined expression and every movement of his is graceful.

"I did not know, you were acquainted!?“, Oikawa is leaning against Iwaizumi and raises his eyebrow.

"Why didn’t you tell me, _he_ was Flowers Guy!?“, Kuro shoots back, arm slung over Daichi's shoulder, having him halfway into a headlock.

"Our schools had an exchange program“, Daichi wheezes out.

"_Shit_, what a small world!“, Kuro is still giddy and ruffles his hair.

Daichi fails to shake him off. His arms still feel like _pudding, _only that that would be an insult to pudding and when he looks at them, he realizes how red his skin of his biceps is. 

That is gonna leave some _nasty_ bruises!

_Battle scars_!, he thinks to himself, then shakes his head. _You are stupid!_

"_Hot damn_, that was a nice receive!“, Kuro whistles as he follows his eyes.

"It was _horrible_“, Daichi coughs out.

"And I am afraid“, Iwaizumi shoots his partner a glance who is now smiling very smugly, "that was only warm-up“

"Bet your ass it was“, Oikawa chirps, very proud of himself.

Daichi wants to faint right then and there. If that was only a test run, what in tarnation's name does a sincere serve feel like?

How does _any_ human being receive that without breaking their arms?

Kuro by now seems to notice he is suffocating Daichi and lets him go.

Daichi croaks and rubs at his chest.

Now he has time to look at the other newcomers a little closer and he recognizes one of them instantly.

_Bokuto Kotaro_ \- an active member of the national team.

He’ll be damned - _there is no surviving this_!

The third man however is one more stranger to him.

Daichi has to sit through another eight points before Suga is warmed up and they rotate into their designated positions.

And while he is lucky enough not to encounter any more of Oikawa's serves, that does not mean relieve. Ohira and Hanamaki are both strong player with a mean spike and Konoha is a tricky one too.

But _worst_ of all is the prickle in his heels, that tells him to _run_, to _jump_ and to _reach out_ for that ball with all his might. Whenever the thought of rushing forwards comes to him, he has to silently kick himself to stay where he is and the result is a shaky dance of half steps and snatchy movements.

Daichi decides, he owes Nishinoya a huge gift basket or maybe just a bottle of good vodka, that will make him happier! And a serenade in his honours. He will _definitely_ like that one.

Finally Suga takes over for Watari, who pats Daichi on the back and he slumps down next to his bag, chugging as much water as he can fit.

He is certain, he would not have made it through the entire match, not in his slouched condition and now he realizes just _how badly_ out of shape he is. 

This needs to _change_! 

_As soon_ as everything stops hurting.

Kuro and Bokuto are stretching next to him and they talk a little about how they have been since they last met in High School.

The stranger introduces himself as Akaashi Keiji - a former teammate of Konoha and Saru. And Bokuto.

Daichi can’t help but notice, Tetsuro has not changed _a bit_.

He is still lanky, kept his weird bed head and after all these years, has not been able to grow a beard. Only his skin is a little less tan, than it used to be.

Daichi keeps his life story short. The usual: _Didn’t work out, what can you do, helping a friend now, everything fine, change of topic._

No details, no emotion. 

No _weakness_.

The game ends, Oikawa's team wins by an inch.

They break up and everyone ventures to get their drinks.

By now the prodding in his arms has turned into violent pounding of pain and Daichi can’t help but roll his shoulders every once in a while.

"Here“, something cold touches his cheek and he cranes his head back.

Sugawara has a towel draped over his shoulders and a bottle in hand. With the other, he offers Daichi a hand-long, orange tube. "It should take away the sting and keep them from bruising all too badly“

"Oh. Thank you!“, Daichi blinks a couple of times, sincerely thankful, then he twists the cap of the cream and pours a beat as large as his thumb onto the insides of his upper arms.

He hands the tube back and nods, then he starts to rub the stuff over his sore muscles.

It is comfortably cooling and he can’t help the little sigh when the burning fades away a few seconds later.

Sugawara chuckles and sits down next to them.

"Are you good?“, he asks and Daichi nods.

"It was brave to receive it like that. Not even Watari tries to get them when he doesn’t have a clean stance“, Suga says more to the bottle in his hands, than to Daichi. "_Brave_, but also really _dumb"_

Daichi slumps a little, can’t help a shy smile.

"To be honest, I didn’t really know, what I was doing. It was more of an instinct than a planned move“, he admits. "I didn’t even know, I still _remembered_ that much"

Suga playfully bumps his elbow against Daichi's, who winces.

"Oh, I am _so_ sorry!“, he immediately clasps a hand over his mouth but Daichi waves it off.

"Don’t worry, Yui hit me harder already“, he tries to laugh it off.

And Sugawara actually smiles at that.

"Hm“, he hums thoughtful and Daichi has the burning feeling, he wants to say something more, but right that moment Iwaizumi claps his hands and calls everyone back together.

Suga flinches and blinks, like had been entirely elsewhere with his thoughts and stands up.

"I… _umn_, still need to finish something. Work it’s… _yeah_“, and he whisks off.

Daichi wants to _kick_ himself.

His great fortune of the evening is, that whenever his thoughts drift off in the general direction of silver hair, or the twinkling beauty mark, of the reflections in deep brown eyes or the tensing of slender muscles under ivory skin, he is _quickly_ forced back into the present, by sharp calls or a ball hitting him.

They redivide the teams, Ohira draws referee and everyone curses when Oikawa and Bokuto end up on the same one.

"Shatter em with your serve, grind their rests to dust with my spike!“, the later chants, euphorically and high-fives his setter.

"_Yay_“, Oikawa chirps, delighted at the prospect of reducing people to ashes.

Daichi can only thank the heavens, that he is on their team. His arms might feel _less_ like they are being roasted now, but they are still _too heavy_ and slow for his taste. He is sure he can’t hold another one of Oikawa's serves, not when they get more and more powerful and deadly with each he performs and if not before, then at the _very least_ when Bokuto slams down the first spike, he could cry out his gratitude.

He values his arms and he would very much like them to _not_ be shattered to pieces.

Now the chant from earlier makes_ a lot_ more sense!

On the other side, that man plays national so what do you _expect_!?

Yaku, Kuro and Sasaya stand alongside him and Hanamaki is waiting at the sideline to be switched in for their libero.

Akaashi turns out to be a setter too and he and Oikawa engage in a full-fledged _massacre_ of finicky and sly moves, one more elaborate and tricky than the other.

It’s a _bloodbath_.

Another match later, Suga vanishes out the door and when he comes back, he looks _very_ sour.

"I need to let off some steam“, he declares, as he slams his laptop shut and Oikawa happily vacates his spot to let him play.

And so Daichi finds himself on a field with the devil.

He now understands what the silver-haired had meant upon their second meeting. Only that Daichi is _in no way_ disappointed.

He may not be as filigree or as strong as Oikawa, but he is _no less_ powerful.

Suga has a _grace_ to him, that makes even his textbook methods look enchanting and wondrous.

And he knows how to _motivate_ his team.

In a short breather, while Bokuto prepares to serve, Hanamaki grins across the net and whistles: "Having a _deja-vu_ Reon?“

The other laughs and his face is determined, with a thick layer of joy smeared over his demeanour. "I always forget, he’s not as fragile as he looks“, Ohira says with a smile.

"_Hah_, you say that about the guy who _kicked your asses_ and got us to nationals!“, Hanamaki grins devilish.

Daichi looks at the scoreboard. Well, they _are_ getting their asses kicked right now too!

What do you mean?“, he has to ask, but he doesn’t get an answer, as Iwaizumi, this match's referee, blows the whistle and Bokuto lets out a loud, complementary hoot.

The ball soars, but Watari takes it without hesitation and the battle unfolds.

Daichi has never played with Akaashi before, but the man is skilled, if not as multifarious as Oikawa and after only a few tosses Daichi finds the ball _right_ where it fits him best. He jumps, ready and in his element.

The shadow appears quicker than he can process, slinking past his teammates and switching positions with Sasaya in an instant.

Arms loom above him, corner his diagonal line and a _shiver_ runs through Daichi.

His hand is already in motion and he can‘t change direction now, _not_ in the shape he is now. Fear quakes through his veins and he loses the defining moment. His hand merely _caresses_ the ball, gives it a soft thud and he lifts it over the net lackadaisical.

The fact, that Watari had expected a straight hit and not this _whimsical excuse_ for one, is the only reason they still score a point.

"_Damn_“, the bald grits out as he lifts himself from the floor and Daichi can feel his heart pounding _too_ fast and _too_ loud.

He looks up at Matsukawa who is still towering over him on the other side of the net.

"Nice block Issei, we‘ll get it next time“, Suga slaps the others back gently and the giant turn around, his face unreadable.

Then he ruffles Suga's hair, who quacks and swats at him, laughing.

"Good feint, Flowers Guy“, Akaashi nods at him, but Daichi's throat is still dry.

"That… I… _yeah_, thanks“, he manages. _Akaashi too_? Daichi could have _sworn_ the man was above such things. His move hadn‘t been on purpose but if they think so, all the better - it takes a little away from the embarrassment. He can‘t very well admit he got _scared_.

They finish that match and the next and when they are all sitting down, sweat-soaked and greedily gulping down water, Kuro makes a fateful suggestion.

"Hey, as a last one, _how about old times_“, his eyes burn and that never meant anything good. „_Knights_ versus _Animals_!“

A little bit of murmuring, then universal agreement.

"_Sasaya_, will you do us the honours of being _great warden of the_…“, Kuro begins elaborately.

"_Yeah_, I’ll man the scoreboard“, the other rolls his eyes and gets up on his feet.

The rest follow suit.

"Well, we still need someone!“, Iwaizumi looks around.

"Flowers Guy _not_!“, Kuro declares instantly.

"_Why_? And _Hey_!“, Daichi asks, a little confused. Whatever this game is, he would like someone to explain.

"Cuz _you’re a crow_. You’re an _animal_!“

He must have looked very confused because Kuro groans and begs him: "Our old _mascots_!?"

"_Ahhhhh_“, Daichi lets out an enlightened sigh. Yeah, _that makes sense_!

"I’m an eagle“, Ohira lifts his hand. "How is that different?"

"Yeah, but you’re an _elite_, so off you go. _Shu, shu_“, and Kuro makes a dismissive hand wave.

"Don’t worry, we’ll kick their buts!“, Suga pats Ohira on the shoulder and guides him off, to where the old Seijoh team is gathering.

Daichi is now squashed in between Konoha and Bokuto and his old friend inhales, for one of his overly dramatic and _too damn long_ speeches, then stops short.

"Wait, now we’re one too many!“

And _that_ is code for Daichi to slink out of the circle and seek safety behind Sasaya.

He is totally done and can’t take this obviously very serious showdown.

His pride tells him to go dig himself a grave _right now_, because _what the actual hell, you have become a wimp, Sawamura Daichi_!

But every single muscle in his body is telling him: _Dig that grave tomorrow - sleep today_.

Over the span of the evening, Daichi has learned to believe in the existence of power couples.

_ Oikawa _ and _ Iwaizumi. _

_ Oikawa _ and _ Bokuto. _

_ Sugawara _ and _ Matsukawa. _

_ Bokuto _ and _ Akaashi. _

_ Yaku _ and _ Kuro. _

_ Matsukawa _ and _ Hanamaki. _

_ Suga _ and _ Oikawa. _

_ Bokuto _ and _ Kuro. _

All these combinations have a raw power, smooth as silk, strong as steel and they make the team that houses them infinitely better.

Now having the ultimate combinations on the field in unnerving him.

The battle is _brutal_.

Every spike is _deadly_, every serve hits where it _hurts_, no mistakes _allowed_, no weakness _forgiven_, no soft spot left _unscarred_.

The Animals are a feral power.

The smoothness of the former Nekoma players makes the perfect foundation for Bokuto's wild and daring spikes. The other Fukurodani members reinforce their captain, playing one decoy after another, twisting and turning in the air, always slipping under the grip of their enemy, preying on their chance to _strike_.

But all the fines in the world will get you _nowhere_ if you are fighting a wall of polished shields and a phalanx of razor-sharp spears. Oikawa directs his team with a strong hand, like a king he gives out orders and right by his side, Iwaizumi brings death to all their enemies. The other players follow their general without hesitation and then, in the shadows, lurks the advisor, spinning his invisible net across the field and _just_ when you forget about him, Sugawara's trap snaps closed.

Daichi has been dumbfounded by Wataris and Oikawa's switch before, but now having a _triple_ of settlers on the field is like playing _whack-a-mole_. One second he thinks the Libero will perform his trick, the next Suga is at the ball but a second before he can receive it, he switches with Oikawa and their opponents' defence is left _beyond confused_.

Just by watching, Daichi gets a little dizzy.

"Wait until their _fourth_ is here!“, Sasaya grunts out as he adjusts the score.

The battle is _narrow_, the battle is _fierce_ but in the end, _everything_ has to submit to the might of the blue castle.

***

"Aw _fuck me_“, Iwaizumi plops down the ground, out of breath and done beyond comparison.

"Too sore“, Oikawa muffles, laying next to him, face pressed against the coolness of the ground.

"Get a _room_“, Kuro calls over.

"_You_ leave!“, they reply in unison.

"Ignore them“, Suga shakes his head, wiping away sweat from his neck, greedily emptying his bottle.

His heart is still going a little to fast from their last two points and now his legs are pounding uncomfortably.

But he can‘t sit down _yet_. If he does, he knows he _won‘t_ get up anymore.

And so he rests his hands on his knees, closes his eyes and focuses on getting his breathing back to a reasonable pace.

Bokuto has deflated right on the spot and is now rubbing his cheek against Akaashi's calve, who is very patiently drinking water, waiting for his partner to snap out of it.

"_So_, what‘s the score now?“, Maki asks eventually and Kuro _drags_ himself over to his bag to pull out his phone.

"Twenty-one to eighteen for _you_“, he tells them begrudgingly.

A weak hollering echoes through the gym and Suga high-fives Matsun.

"Hey, wow, _wow_, we _still_ have two months left!“, Kuro calls out and flips them off. "Don‘t dance just yet, we‘ll still get you!"

"Yeah, _yeah_, keep dreaming“, Oikawa makes a dismissive hand wave as he sits up. "Just _accept_ you can‘t beat us"

"You know, he is not _wrong_“, Kai pats his former captain on the back, with a gentle face.

"Oh _come on_, not you too!“, Kuro wails and rakes his hand through his hair, dissolving it even further.

"We just have the _ultimate weapon_“, Matsun declares and nuzzles his chin over Sugas head, wrapping his arms around him.

Suga laughs and pats his brother's hands, allowing him to rest against his back.

"_Yeah_, he‘s cute and he bites, try to top that, _looser_!“, Hanamaki makes two victory signs.

"_Hey_!“, Suga scrunches up his face.

"In which way was that a compliment?“, Iwaizumi seems confused too.

"_I don‘t know man_, my brain got steam-cooked“, Hanamaki deflates just as quick as he has jumped up and shrugs it off.

It is at that point that Konoha chimes in: „Hate to break it, but not everyone here has a money fountain up their ass and can afford a car in this city! So we‘ll have to break up soon, otherwise, the last bus is gonna be gone“

"If someone needs the subway from _Western_, we still have an empty seat", Iwaizumi offers and stands up, pulling Oikawa with him.

Suga jawns and Matsun looks down at him. "You want me to drive you home?"

He smiles but shakes his head. "That's a giant detour for you. Take someone who actually needs your direction. I can take the subway home“, Suga hums and Matsun lets go of him, not without another little nuzzle to his crest.

They pack their things and mop up the gym.

Konoha locks behind them and Suga pulls his jacket closer around himself. Outside it has gotten colder than expected. He changed back into his jeans but left the sports shirt on. _Maybe I should add another layer_, he contemplates and eyes the pullover in his bag. But the way to the bus stop is short.

Iwaizumi, Oikawa, Hanamaki and Sasaya wave them goodbye as they trail off to where Takahiro has parked.

"I‘ll text you the next dates tomorrow!“, Iwaizumi tells them before he pats Matsun on the shoulder and hugs Suga goodbye.

"Yeah and make it _soon_, we don‘t want you to keep your score just because you manipulated the dates, _would we now_“, Kuro exaggerates.

"If you want to lose by an even _wider_ margin, that‘s fine with me“, Hanamaki proclaims and their bedhead is poking his tongue out at him.

"And here I stand, thinking we were _out_ of kindergarten“, Reon mumbles under his breath and Suga snickers into his hand, then they start walking, Konoha in the back, pushing them on, constantly checking his clock.

"Ah, _who cares_, if not we all just sit on Matsukawas rooftop and hold on tight till _Central_!“, Watari swats at his friend softly and the corners of his mouth twitch up.

Matsun doesn‘t comment on it, just gives him a deadpan look and wraps his warm arm over Sugas shoulder.

"Flowers Guy-San, where do you need to go?“, Yaku is walking next to Daichi and the other clears his throat.

"Um… _Daichi_ is fine. I need the eight, north“, he said, with a little nod, as if he wasn‘t quite sure himself.

Suga's heart aches. He does not know why. Secretly he had been hoping to spend a _little_ more train ride time with Daichi, but now that he has too, he suddenly wants to run and hide.

He misses the moment he lifts his hand to bite at his fingernails, but _Matsun_ doesn‘t and when he pulls his hand away gently, he tells him: "Come on, I‘ll take you. It is not _that_ much of a diversion“, and his tone is insistent.

"I‘m taking Suga home, anyone need that direction?“, he then announces loudly and before Suga can object.

"Oh, _I‘m in_ \- can you let me out somewhere along the seventeen?“, Saru calls out and fights his way past Kuro and Yaku.

"Sure! I parked that way“, by now they have reached the main road and Issei turns right, while the others start to gather at the left.

Suga hugs the people closest to him whereat Bokuto lifts him off the ground and squeezes him hard enough for the _entire_ group, then he waves the rest a goodbye and with a last, lingering look on Daichi, he allows Matsun to gently push him away.

His eyes find the dark-haired and for a second their gaze meets, then Akashi moves in the way and the other turns to go.

The car ride is mostly silent, Saru hums along to the radio and Suga does his best not to chew his fingers by keeping them tightly wrapped around the straps of his bag.

They stop at the corner _Central Road, Financial district_ and let out their friend who waves after them as Issei pulls back into traffic, that is still running heavy even at the late hour.

Then again. Midnight is not late in this city. It is _never_ too late around here. If you are out till four, you are _early_ at most.

Now there is only the night program and Suga looks out the window, lets the buildings and light pass by, blur together and form new pictures.

He can‘t help but _think_. Hiro said, he could stare at Daichi's butt, but oddly enough Suga has not given it more than one or two _quick_ glances. His eyes had been glued further down. Daichi has _incredible_ tighs.

Suga knows a lot of people with impressive muscles but somehow nothing comes close to _this_.

_ You are just seeing what you want to see. _

_He has a flab rol_l. A _very tiny_ and _very discreet_ one, but Sawamura Daichi has a little bit of _chub_ on his belly. You wouldn’t notice while he was standing but from his angle, Suga had seen it clearly when he had offered Daichi the appeasing lotion. He wonders what it feels like.

He wonders what _Daichi_ feels like. What his _arms_ are like if his _chest_ is as comfortable as it looks. If he gets _stubbles_ if he doesn‘t shave, or if his voice is _hoarse_ in the morning.

Suga's mind is tired, _exhausted_ from the long day and the thought of someone rubbing circles between his shoulder blades is just too good.

Then he realizes it _isn‘t_ a fantasy. Someone actually _is_ soothing him.

And he _isn‘t_ in the car anymore.

"Hey, it‘s alright. You fell asleep“, Matsuns soft murmur blows away the confusion and he closes his eyes again, feels the familiar texture of his sheets. Of _home_.

_ Why does everything have to hurt so badly? _

He rolls over, reaching blindly, like a child and grabs the fist best piece of his brother he can reach, curling around it, _clinging_ to the hem of his jacket.

He can hear Matsun hush him and his other hand finds its way petting over Suga's hair.

"Can you stay?“, he manages, voice throaty.

He doesn‘t want to be alone._ Not now_! Not with the overwhelming loneliness looming in the corner of his mind.

He needs someone to hold him, someone to keep the nightmares at bay.

Matsun adjusts his position and for the fraction of a heartbreak, terror quakes through Suga. 

"_Please_“, he whimpers, holding on tighter. _Please don‘t leave. Not you too._

But Matsun is standing up anyways and Suga can feel the shivers rise up from his insides. _Please_. **Please stay**.

The mattress dips and warm arms pull him against a familiar chest.

Long fingers start to run through his hair and he is gently shushed once more. Like a baby animal, Suga instinctively snuggles his way closer against the body giving him shelter and Matsun drapes a blanket over both of them.

They are still fully clothed, sweaty and disgusting.

But Suga _can‘t_ let go and even if he had been able to, Matsun is holding him tight.

He keeps talking in a low voice, but what he is saying Suga can not comprehend anymore. He‘s _exhausted_, he is _hurting_ and everything is getting blurry.

Eventually, he passes out more than he falls asleep in their comforting cocoon.

*******

Daichi glances over his shoulder one last time, _heart heavy_.

Suga doesn‘t look well.

Maybe he needs help. At the very least he should _offer_. Or ask. Or do _something_.

But before he can think of the right words to say, the silver-haired is guided away and the only eyes, meeting him, are sharp, dark and threatening.

Matsukawa has his arms around Suga _like a bodyguard_ and something in his possessive demeanour is putting Daichi _on edge_.

_ Who does that guy think he is!? _

_Someone who knows Suga a lot longer and a lot better than you!,_ is the silent answer.

Daichi clenches and relaxes his fists several times, then he turns and follows Konoha.

It does not go past him, how Akaashi and Kuro turn back too, then give each other a knowing look.

"He doesn‘t like me much, _does he_?“, Daichi grits out because his wisdom is at an end. He _knows_ he is missing some important parts of the puzzle to understand why they behave the way they do but it is annoying him none the less.

He _wants_ to understand but nobody is going to tell him, that much he knows.

Someone pats his back and he turns to look at Watari.

"Don‘t take it personally, Issei needs his time to warm up to people. I was terrified of him until well into my second year. The trick is not to let the eyes fool you. He is _actually_ a real softy"

Daichi grunts.

"_Well_“, Kuro hesitates, exchanging another look with Akaashi, who makes a sharp gesture. Kuro scrunches his face and waves his hands like he is performing sign language.

He _isn‘t_, but apparently Akaashi understands him anyways since they engage in a furious battle of hand flapping and hisses.

Bokuto looks between them, then he crooks his head and turns to Daichi.

They are at the bus stop by now.

"It‘s because Ko-Chan _likes_ you!“, he tells him very sincerely.

Akaashi and Kuro snap around, then the former facepalms himself and whispers: "_That much for discretion"_

"_What_? I‘m a bit slow, but I‘m not _stupid_! Matsukawa wants to protect him. It is _that_ simple!“, Bokuto looks affronted by his partner's reaction.

"_Bo_, that _isn‘t_ the point. The _point_ is: _It‘s personal_ and we are probably _not_ in the position to talk about it“, Kuro tries a little gentler.

"_But he asked_!“, the spike-head points his finger at Daichi as if everything was _his_ fault. 

Well, taking into account what he just learned, _it probably is_!

Daichi's heart clenches. Suga _likes_ him.

Why does that make him so giddy?

_ Because you can‘t like him back. _

And there he is, at the foundation of the problem.

Suga likes him and Daichi would _love_ to like Suga back. 

But. _He_. **Can‘t**.

"Are they… _you know_“, he flaps his hand weakly, unable to get it over his lips.

"What? _Dating_?“, Kuro asks. The way Daichi cringes must be answer enough.

"_Nah_, I mean… _nah_. They are brothers!“

Okay, _now_ he is _confused_!

"You see“, Yaku is choosing his words very carefully, "Matsukawa is just a little _overprotective_. Watari is right: Give it _time_“

"Worrying too much is pointless“, Kai nods along, "There is too much, they themselves can‘t figure out so trying to understand it as an outsider is a waste of time and effort. Time does the trick"

"Thanks“, Daichi can‘t help but be a little bitter as he boards the bus.

He could hold a _very long_ speech on how time can _fuck off_ for all he cares, but he bites his tongue. 

If he speaks now, he will have to tell the _rest_. And that is another thing he _just can‘t do_.

Because his heart is _locked_ and the key has _long_ been lost. Without these chains, he would probably just fall apart, so he has no intention of ever starting to pick at the broken pieces of soul stuffed too tightly into his chest.

Bokuto inhales, most likely to try picking the topic backup but he gets simultaneously silenced by a hand over his mouth from _both_ Konoha and Kuro.

Akaashi shoots Daichi a pitiful look.

Great. Like attending a funeral.

_Another_ funeral.

At home, he falls down over his couch. He knows he needs to shower but he can‘t move a single muscle.

Not _only_ because he is sore as _hell_ and it is growing worse by the minute but also because the deadweight between his ribs has grown heavy as a truck over the last two train stops and reached freight car levels one the walk to his flat.

_Suga likes him_.

Daichi doesn‘t deserve it.

He needs to make this _right_.

With that thought, he falls asleep right on the spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the long wait, I moved for university and did not have any internet at my new flat until now.  
I hope you like what I came up with in the mean time.


	5. Chapter 4: Winds of change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time is a funny thing. Some days it flows like honey, others it goes by like the swift winter winds, turning the mills of our story.

The next two months pass by like the blink of an eye.

Daichi doesn‘t know  _ why _ .

Yui says it is because he has started to reinvent himself. Somehow it makes him sceptical when she starts to give away pearls of wisdom. Like she is trying to recruit him for a  _ cult  _ or something.

Iwaizumi calls the day after their training, apologizing for having forgotten the files and so they meet again for another lunch a couple of days later and go over everything.

On their way out, Oikawa asks him if he is free on the 28th and tells him: “Presumably same address if anything changes we‘ll let you know“

And so, as soon as the initial torment of muscle ache is over, he starts to stretch his morning jogs by including sprints, increased distance and bodyweight workout after and he is  _ relieved  _ to see how quick he is returning to his old shape. It starts to feel like  _ his  _ body again. A body he is  _ in control of _ !

By mid of December, the burning fades and while he is  _ not yet  _ back to 100%, he feels like 95% at least.

It is his third training with  _ The Society _ , as Hanamaki  _ insists  _ they are called and he has once again been reminded to pay his fees.

Daichi still doesn‘t know what kind of comments to take seriously and which are  _ bullshit _ , but he thinks he is getting better at it.

The only thing that in fact, that is  _ not  _ getting better, is his nickname. Apparently,  _ Flowers Guy  _ has gotten stuck on him.

The second training Daichi tries to resist and correct, but it is like he‘s thin air.

The group seems to fluctuate, never the same and he has to introduce himself over and  _ over _ . Twice he is recognised from a tournament. At least Datekos old captain hasn‘t forgotten about them - they were  _ sorely  _ defeated but hey, they left an impression.  _ Maybe this will cheer Asahi up _ .

Daichi has done his best to get in contact with his old friends, a little inspired by how neatly Suga organises his contacts.

_ Suga  _ \- yeah, that is another thing, that has improved. He  _ thinks _ .

When Oikawa had invited him a second time, Daichi had considered to come up with an excuse. Kuros words and Akaashis expression were burned into his memory, just as the subtle hostility Matsukawa was  _ still  _ showing him. But he had squared his shoulders and told himself over and over again:  _ You are in control now.  _

And that made it bearable. Made him more  _ secure _ .

Sure, the very sight of pale skin and ashen hair still made his inerts  _ pulse,  _ but he was better at pushing it aside now. The trick turned out to be,  _ not  _ to deny it. He let it churn  _ once _ , churn  _ twice  _ and when he had acknowledged that, he took a deep breath and let it go.

It made  _ talking  _ easier, made it  _ less tempting,  _ to watch Sugawara's beauty mark move instead of paying attention to the seating and table arrangement, made  _ shaking  _ his hand less awkward.

And so his third training felt like an uplift. He was back in shape, only  _ half  _ an emotional mess and tomorrow he would go on a drink with his friends. 

_ The last step.  _

The infamous last step to a safe shore.

Or  _ well  _ \- at least  _ half  _ of it.

And what was wrong with standing on sand, watching the waves lick at your feet.

It had been ages since Daichi had been to an actual beech but he remembers, he liked the feeling.

If  _ only  _ there would not be the damn name.

He  _ tries _ to take it with pride, he  _ really _ _ does _ , but by now, he is just  _ done _ with it.

Because the two men who just walked in are no others than his old and bitter rivals.

“Oh  _ yeah _ , I remember you. Funny thing, that  _ you  _ are Flowers Guy“, Futakuchi Kenji sneers with his usual tone of ‚ _ so long suckers _ ‘. The man might have grown and his chin is a little more pronounced but damn, but he is  _ still  _ pissing Daichi off like you  _ would not believe!  _

The tall one just nods at him. Okay,  _ he  _ has grown too!  _ Fuck _ .

_ “Sawamura Daichi  _ “, he tries to sound as friendly as possible.

“Who  _ caaares _ “, Futakuchi stretches that  _ ‘a’  _ bored out of his mind and makes a dismissive hand wave, then walks past him.

Daichi takes a deep breath.  _ Relax _ . Do not punch him. Repeat: Do.  ** Not ** .  _ Punch _ .

“Don‘t like the nickname?“, Kuro leans over his shoulder and wraps one arm around his neck.

“What do you think  _ bedhead  _ ?“, Daichi glances up at him.

“Ouch“, his friend dramatically drapes a hand over his chest. “You wound me,  _ Mr.Amazing-Butt  _ “

“Yeah, stick with  _ Flowers Guy  _ “, and he shakes him off to go fill up his bottle.

“Come on, at least I‘m  _ trying  _ !“, Kuro yells after him and Daichi flips him off.

“ _ My God _ , we got ourselves a  _ rebel  _ “, Hanamaki snickers from the sink. “What a delight“

Daichi does not flip  _ him  _ off.

With Kuro he has quickly found back into their old ' _ you annoy the shit out of me, but in a tolerable kind of way'  _ -ease. The rest of them, however, are still more strangers than acquaintances and he is more careful.

_ Especially  _ with the ones of which he doesn‘t know how they will react.

There are the  _ steady  _ characters, like Ohira, Konoha, Kai or Watari and Daichi likes them. Sure Konoha is a  _ pain _ , but he at the end of the day he is still the same as he was at its beginning.

_ Then,  _ there are the ones, you better handle  _ carefully _ , like Yaku, who can throw an impressive tantrum, but is also very caring and supportive or Akaashi, who can gossip about his colleagues as long as the sun is up but is also gentle and honest.

And then there are the  _ wild cards _ .

Bokuto seems to be a known chaos-factor but there are  _ others _ , hidden spiders in their web without system, like the very man, now making space for him with a chortle and a poke into his biceps.

Daichi tries not to cringe away, but take it like it doesn‘t plunge his head into chaos.

He has  _ never  _ known how to deal with these people, other than stoic yelling.

And while that may have worked on Tanaka and Nishinoya, he is  _ rather  _ certain, the outcome of trying to give commands to one Hanamaki Takahiro will end  _ ugly _ . For  _ Daichi _ .

And so he is just about to screw the cap of his bottle, as a hand grips his upper arm and there is an intense: “ _ Wait a minute  _ !“

Then, before he can take countermeasures, he is seized by his shirt and  _ yanked  _ back into the gym.

“Guys,  _ guys  _ !“, Hanamaki exclaims excitedly, dragging Daichi back to the group.

Then he gives him a thud in the back and Daichi almost stumbles.

“ _ Hey _ , what…“

He is silenced by his shirt forcefully being yanked over his head and like a circus director announcing the next act the strawberry-blonde calls out: “Behold, gentlemen -  _ and Futakuchi  _ -„

“ _ Fuck  _ you!“

“- someone got  _ ripped  _ !“

Daichi can feel the blood rise into his face, as he weakly grasps for his shirt.

“ _ Uhhhh  _ “, Kuro leans forward. “  _ Nice  _ “

“ _ Damn _ , now I‘m jealous - why can‘t I get muscles up so fast“, Komi, the old libero of Fukurodani, who Daichi met last time, sighs.

He decides  _ not  _ to tell him, that,  _ yes _ , he builds up muscles very quickly, but he also needs to skip his work-out more than two days in a row and he‘ll be back to belly fat and having his belt five holes wider.

The most intense reaction, however, is Sugawara's. Bottle at his lips, he glances over, suspecting nothing and  _ splutters  _ the water all over Iwaizumi‘s neck, coughing desperately.

“ _ Ew  _ !“, Iwaizumi mumbles as he wipes his neck with a grimace.

“ _ Mn‘sorry _ “, Suga mumbles, hunching down by his bag, now  _ frantically  _ pressing his hand over his face.

His other is digging through his stuff and brings forth a pack of tissues.

“‘ _ m sorry _ !“, he repeats, glances up at Daichi again, makes a  _ high pitched  _ noise and storms away, hand still clutched over his nose.

It is helping very  _ little  _ against the onslaught of blood dripping over his fingers.

Almost every head in the room follows him to the stairs and for a second there is  _ utter  _ silence.

“Oh  _ wow _ . I totally forgot!“, Hanamaki whispers in awe and Iwaizumi throws his bottle at him.

Daichi is still processing. There he thought he had updated his software but apparently some bugs still need to be smoothed out.

“What’s wrong with Sugawara?“, a new and unfamiliar voice asks and two more men come up the staircase.

One of them has puffy and creamy light hair and a little bit of a pout, the other has dark, short-cropped hair with one blonde stripe on his right side and at least three piercings in his left eyebrow.

“If you plan on having  _ another  _ wet t-shirt contest I am  _ fucking outa here!  _ “, the later barks, voice rough and a very displeased look in his eyes. 

Matsukawa uses this interruption to pull the green shirt out of his friend's hands and fling it at Daichi, who catches it clumsily.

“Shigeru-Chan, KyoKen“, Oikawa chirps, waving at them.

“Can I  _ go  _ ?“, the grumpy one,  _ is he wearing eyeliner?  _ , asks his partner, who smacks his lips and whacks him over the back of his head.

“ _ Ah _ , the kids grow up so fast“, Hanamaki hums to himself, wiping away a non-existent tear.

“Fuck you  _ old man!  _ “

“ _ Hey _ , have some respect for your elders!“

“And who  _ the fuck  _ are you again and  _ why the shit  _ should I care?“

Kuro gasps in shock and flinches away.

The light-haired whacks his partner over the head once more and the grumpy one sticks his hands into his pockets with a little  _ “Tsk  _ “

And now they look at Daichi.

“You‘re the new one,  _ aren‘t you  _ ?“, the light-haired asks, sceptical but friendlier than his companion who pulls up his nose, as if  _ something  _ smelled bad.

“I…“, and there he stands,  _ shirtless _ , clutching his clothes like a lost  _ five-year-old  _ in a gym full of people who are going to stress him to  _ death  _ on top of the fact they just ruined a month of progress he had made in getting along with Suga, so  _ fuck this _ !

_ Fuck  _ his  _ pride  _ and  _ fuck  _ his  _ dignity _ . He can‘t fall any further. Time to embrace it.

He sighs and his shoulders drop,  _ defeated _ .

“I‘m the Flowers Guy“, he mumbles just loud enough for them to hear.

_ Silence _ .

He can hear someone muffle their snickering in the background.

“Pleased to meet you  _ Sawamura Daichi  _ “

His head  _ snaps  _ up and he looks at the hand offered. The man with the puffy hair now has a sly grin on his lips.

Daichi whips around so fast, his neck  _ cracks  _ painfully.

He stares at one after the other.

At  _ Hanamaki _ who is grinning so fat, his face might  _ break _ in half, at  _ Iwaizumi _ who is wearing a leisure  _ smirk _ and  _ Oikawachuckling _ into his hand. He looks at  _ Watari _ who is  _ innocently _ looking up at the ceiling, at  _ Futakutchi’s _ obvious but  _ especially foxy _ sneer and at  _ Akaashi _ , doing his best to keep the usual straight face. His  _ eyes _ give him away.

_ Bokuto  _ and  _ Kuro  _ are not even  _ trying  _ to hide it, leaning against one another and  _ Komi  _ is suddenly  _ very  _ interested in his fingernails. Last but not least and  _ he will be damned _ , the tiniest of grins is painting the stone-cold face of  _ Matsukawa  _ and Daichi's stomach grows weak.

“You were  _ messing  _ with me“, he realizes, voice a little too small for his taste.

“ _ Of course  _ we were messing with you!“, Iwaizumi slaps him on the back with a friendly chuckle.

“Welcome to the team“, Oikawa hums with a little singsong and pats his other shoulder.

“You  _ still  _ owe me  _ Doritos  _ though!“, Hanamaki declares vividly.

“You hurt my brother and no one will  _ ever  _ find your body!“, Matsukawa is a little quieter than his friends but about three times as insinuating. Then he hesitates for just a moment and  _ pats  _ Daichi's shoulder briefly.

Daichi wants to go home.

He is exhausted to the core and they have not even  _ started  _ playing yet!

Sugawara slinks back into the gym somewhere during the second match and when they take a break Daichi decides to approach him, threat  _ very much  _ still hanging over his head.

“Are,  _ um…  _ are you okay?“, he asks and Suga looks up at him from where he is sitting on the floor.

“Oh yeah, I… _ ‘m sorry _ ! We were doing good and I… I made it  _ awkward  _ again“, he pinks and turns his eyes back to the ground.

“A little  _ yeah  _ but… I mean… I  _ don‘t…  _ mind. That  _ much _ “, Daichi fumbles around and takes a deep breath. “I‘m very good at pretending that things never happened,  _ so…  _ we can just… you  _ know...  _ “

Suga chuckles and nods more to himself than to Daichi.

“Are… you?  _ Okay _ , I mean“, he looks up again, just a quick glance.

Daichi can‘t help but sigh.  _ Was he okay?  _

“Am I okay?“, he plops down next to Sugawara and chuckles to himself, with a slightly  _ desperate  _ undertone. “Within the last two hours I was publicly embarrassed  _ twice _ , made a  _ fool  _ out of myself, got a  _ threat upon my life  _ and am constantly being reminded to bring  _ Doritos _ “, he lists, eyes closed, head leaned back. “Yeah, I‘d say I‘m  _ fine _ “, he chuckles.

Sugawara joins in, his laugh is fond but also a little strained.

“Don‘t be too hard on Issei. He… he tends to be a little  _ too  _ dramatic. If you can give him time, he‘s really nice“, Suga speaks fondly and when he looks up, his eyes wander over to the tall one.

“I didn‘t know you were related“, Daichi admits.

“Oh we…  _ we‘re not _ . It‘s … it‘s  _ complicated _ , but yeah… umn, bring the super spicy  _ Doritos _ , not the cheese ones“, Suga's eyes turn to Daichi and he nods again.

It is rather obvious he doesn‘t want to talk about their exact relationship and Daichi won‘t push him.  _ Damn _ , he is keeping his fair share of facts hidden, he will  _ not  _ dig in someone else's!

“Alright.  _ Super Spicy  _ is noted“

And Sugas smile turns just the littlest bit fox-like. “I sure hope so  _ Flowers Guy  _ “, he gets up and offers his hand to Daichi.

A day later Daichi is added to a  _ WhatsApp  _ group named  _ Volley&Friends (and Futakuchi) _ . He smiles as he reads the name. 

His meeting with Asahi, Noya and Tanaka is  _ great _ .

They get together at Saeko's bar and she puts out snacks en masse.

“You‘re  _ shitting  _ me right!“, Tanaka leans forwards, slamming his bottle down on the table.

“ _ No _ , I‘m  _ serious  _ !“, Daichi grins as he tells them about the volleyball training.

“ _ Nekoma _ , man I totally forgot about em“, Noya leans back and ruffles his hair.

“I‘m almost jealous“, Asahi sighs with a gentle smile.

Noya aggressively pats his shoulders. “Hey,  _ no tearjerkers _ , we got em big old Daichi back, it‘s time to drink until we sleep under the table“, he hollers.

“ _ I‘ll warn ya _ , I‘ma kick you out a five tomorrow Yuu“, Saeko brings them another round, then she pulls over a chair from a vacant table and squeezing in between her brother and Daichi.

Their short one just laughs and then reaches over the table and pokes at Daichi.

“C‘mon, tell her again how you  _ miserably failed  _ at being a libero“

“I  _ did not  _ fail miserably, I  _ received  _ it Nishinoya, didn‘t you  _ listen _ ?“, he prods back.

“And you guys know, while I  _ love  _ cheering, I know  _ jack shit  _ about volleyball!“, Saeko chimes in with a wild laugh.

There is a knock at the door and she turns, grimacing.

“Which part of  _ ‘closed‘  _ is  _ so  _ hard to understand?“, she mumbles pissed.

“Ah, wait, I think that's Chika and Kazu“, Noya looks at his phone. “Jup,  _ them _ “

And so she goes to let in their missing ones.

Daichi has to get up and hug them and Enoshita laughs: “Excuse my bluntness, but you look  _ a lot less like shit _ !“

Daichi has to snort and bumps his shoulder. “Wouldn‘t have you any other way“, he laughs. “And you’re  _ not wrong  _ ”

And so Daichi has to tell the whole story  _ again _ .

It is not like his friends had not invited him anymore to their regular meetings at the  _ Graveyard Bar _ , name curtsey to Saeko's weird humour and a wordplay Daichi has never understood, but he had frequently found excuses not to come.

He had been  _ ashamed  _ of how he let himself go and to be honest he just  _ couldn‘t  _ bear the pity any more.

But now he felt like he could show his face again.

“Where did you leave Kinoshita?“, Daichi asks.

“Already on vacation the lucky  _ bastard _ “, Narita sighs, dreamily.

Saeko puts down more beer and a round of shots, then they toast to old times and everything after is a little  _ blurry _ .

Daichi only knows that he wakes up with a  _ warm  _ feeling in his belly.

A week later, at a last and shorter training session before the holidays, he stoically walks over to Hanamaki and pushes a  _ Doritos  _ bag at him.

He got one of the oversized packs, to make sure.

“As requested and I think that should cover for next month too“, he declares.

For the first time in almost two months, he is witness to the man  _ speechless _ .

He takes the  _ Doritos  _ with a surprised blink, then turns over the packing.

And  _ rips  _ his head up.

“Who  _ snitched _ ?“, he yells and holds up the bag for everyone to see.

“Aw,  _ super spicy _ ? What a  _ shame _ , the only kind you  _ don‘t  _ like, as I seem to randomly recall.  _ Such  _ a pity“, Sugas voice is honey, mixed with razor blades.

With a little jump, he snatches the bag out of his friend's hand and  _ pops  _ it open.

With an almost  _ moan  _ he reaches in and elaborately places a  _ Dorito  _ on his tongue. Then he bites down with  _ extra  _ crunch and rolls his eyes intensely.

“So  _ gooooood _ !“, and eats a second just as pointedly, while Hanamakis yaws drop further and further.

“You are the devil!“, he breathes out.

“ _ Honey _ , if you realised that just  _ now _ , you are about twenty years too late. And I‘m always a slut for  _ Doritos _ “, Suga flicks back his silver bangs and swaggers off.

Hanamaki follows him with his eyes, mouth still hanging open. “I was  _ played _ “, he whispers traumatised.

“Like the  _ cheep kazoo  _ you are!“, Oikawa gently pats his defeated friend's shoulder and watches after Suga too. Then he sighs: “They  _ do  _ grow up so fast“, sniffs and now  _ he  _ is the one wiping away fake tears of joy.

„Oi,  _ Noodle-Arms, Flowers Guy, Shittykawa _ . Stop  _ bulshitting  _ and come over here, we wanna get started“, Iwaizumi yells across the gym and the three of them hurry off to join the rest.

Daichi has a big fat grin on his face.

_ What a man.  _

** *** **

They finish early and Suga can still feel Maki's eyes drilling into his back.

He is  _ on fire.  _

Weirdly enough he doesn‘t know, what put him in this mood. But he‘s sure he could uproot a tree with his bare hands right now.

The last two months Suga has gradually found back into his usual flow. Apart from the minor  _ disaster _ , when they had been unable to get a sculpture out of the museum, everything had gone smoothly.

Suga still doesn‘t know how  _ that  _ happened. They got the metal dragon  _ in _ , but somehow not  _ out _ . In the end, they had to remove one of the high windows in the front hall and organise a crane. It had been a  _ shitshow  _ and Suga was just glad he had not gotten fired. A  _ single scratch  _ in that damn thing and  _ his head  _ would have been sent back to Beijing as a complimentary gift.

Apart from that, breakdown had been without incidents, they had even been in front of their schedule when setting up ‘ _ Movements _ ‘ and the opening day had been just as planned.

On top of that, he had been able to pull  _ two  _ all-nighters and now his progress for spring exhibit was exactly where it should be at this time of the year.

And everything started with the realisation that he would not be left  _ if  _ there was nothing to leave.

It had come to him,  _ slowly _ , that Daichi would be  _ just  _ another friend, as long as Suga didn‘t do anything stupid. Maybe it was the fact that Iwaizumi and Oikawa had decided to befriend the man or just general enlightenment, that took the edge away. Daichi was no longer  _ exclusive  _ to him and that lightened the weight of every moment they spend together.

It was easier now to consider him part of the  _ Volley&Friends  _ group and not something he is yearning for.

It doesn‘t  _ solve  _ the problem and he still feels all tingly and all in all like a 16-year old again whenever he is alone with him, but the manic depressive episodes that followed before are now replaced by mild aching and his whole body being  _ far  _ too warm.

He‘s confident enough to say:  _ I‘m back _ , though.

Well, back except for the wedding he has to help plan.

Because while the final decision on seatings would have to be done next week, he was one more session away from quitting  _ the whole thing  _ altogether.

He did not understand how two people could be so uncooperative!

_ Especially  _ now, when Suga was watching them play and no souls fit better than Iwaizumi and Oikawa.

Maybe they should practice on a volleyball court.  _ That could help them relax.  _

Or fuel Oikawa's competitive streak and make everything  _ worse _ !

Nevertheless, he delays this thought to Matsun, who tilts his head sidewards as they walk up to where the car is parked.

Suga has his hands stuffed into his pockets and his scarf pulled up so that only his eyes are subject to the temperature.

It isn‘t  _ that  _ cold, to be fair, but the snow has begun to fall thick and dense and wet.

They have already left a few behind and now the nine of them are walking up the road.

Somewhere in front of them, he can hear Kuro and Konoha bicker, Daichi and Komi trying to explain Bokuto the concept of dress ties, Akaashi mumble: “ _ I‘ll just get him one for Christmas problem solved _ “, Matsun dragging his feet next to him and Hanamaki screaming  _ murder  _ from the back, still sulking.

“Hm, worth a try - everything is better than where we are now“, his brother mumbles through his flipped up collar and turns around to his partner. “Hiro -”

“I am not  _ consulting  _ with  _ traitors  _ “, comes the prompt hiss.

“ _ Alright  _ then“, and Issei turns back to Suga. “Still have some?“

“Of course. It is my  _ pleasure _ “, Suga grins and pulls the half-eaten bag of  _ Doritos  _ out his bag.

Walking side by side, they munch them in peace, Takahiro whimpering  _ “Betrayal _ “ in the background.

“ _ Yo Guys _ , what are you even doing over the holidays?“, Kuro turns and asks into the round.

Suga sighs.  _ Work _ .

Matsun rubs his back with a soothing turn to his lips - it‘s about as close to a smile as he can manage in public.

Suga leans his head against his shoulder for just a moment, like an appreciative bump.

“Trying to  _ punch some sense  _ into the turtle doves“, he answers instead. 

“And home for a few days“, Matsun ads.

“ _ Work  _ \- it‘s high season for commercials“, Akaashi sighs and Bokuto wraps an arm around him, probably trying to be a comfort but he just makes the other stumble.

“Emptying my stash because I fucking  _ hate  _ Christmas!“, Hanamaki growls.

“ _ Why  _ ?“, Daichi asks, surprised.

Suga answers for his friend because Takahiros wordings can get  _ rather colourful _ : “He‘s allergic to cinnamon“

“ _ Yeah _ , and some  _ asshole  _ decided it was a great idea putting that shit  _ into  _ and  _ on top of everything _ ! Can‘t have a  _ coffee  _ anymore, can‘t eat fucking  _ cookies,  _ even the  _ drinks _ ! They  _ ruined alcohol _ , god damn it! Not to mention the  _ shitty  _ scented candles and decor  _ fuckery  _ everywhere!“, the other throws his hands up. “Newsflash: It‘s  _ fucking shit _ ! And it doesn‘t even  _ smell good. _ “

Konoha whistles slightly impressed. “Did Kyotani get his vocabulary from him or have they just spend too much time together“

_ “Unfortunate  _ coincidence“, Matsun muses.

“What about you, Sawamura?“, Akaashi asks politely.

“Oh  _ erm…  _ “, and Daichi scratches the back of his head as far as possible with gloves. “I‘ll man the shop over Christmas, but I think, I’ll have to go home for the New Year. It‘s my birthday so my family is always making it a big deal“, he tells them.

“Right  _ yeah _ , I remember!“, Kuro snaps his fingers, “Your mom was  _ batshit  _ during New Year's!“

Suga has only at the side heard a few things about their High School exchange, but enough to know Kuro came to Miyagi. He wonders why Daichi never went to Tokyo, though.

“ _ Yeah _ , she‘s really enthusiastic about it and my sister is bringing her fiancee for the first time so… gonna be  _ loud  _ and  _ full  _ and  _ even more awkward  _ than usual“, Daichi laughs, a little embarrassed.

Suga feels a little  _ pinch _ . Matsun seems to notice it and bumps their shoulders, questioningly.

Suga looks up at the warm ovals and the affectionately smoothed out, fuzzy eyebrows and where the pain was, only warmth sprouts. He bumps Issei back and his brother's lips twitch upwards.

_ Yes _ , they will go home.  _ Together _ !

But first, they have to whip their friends into shape!

“I want to  _ cry  _ “, Maki is  _ tearing  _ at his hair as they watch Iwaizumi and Oikawa hold one another at an awkward distance.

The volleyball court idea has initiated no significant improvement. But also no step-backs, so at least that is something.

They are at point zero,  _ just like before _ , only with a change of scenery.

“ _ Right, Iwa-Chan _ !“

“ _ What no _ !“

“Maki please tell this  _ goon _ , he has to turn  _ right  _ !“

“He  _ doesn't _ , Tooru -  _ left! _ _ Iwaizumi _ is leading, left,  _ oh my god, _ someone please  _ kill _ me“

“ _ Hah _ , I  _ told  _ you,  _ asshole  _ “

“Your form is about  _ as wrong  _ as it  _ can be  _ Iwaizumi!“

“Not so smug now,  _ are we  _ ?“

“You’re not better Oikawa, put your arm -  _ good lord _ ,  ** STOP ** , just….  _ stop  _ !“

And the strawberry blonde has to intervene for the presumably  _ twentieth  _ time.

“This - may be our downfall yet“, Issei leans against the wall next to Suga and looks over to where Takahiro is,  _ once again _ , correcting body postures.

Suga frowns at the papers and the case next to him.

He has  _ just  _ started to work, the inspiration having hit him sometime last night, but he can already see that this  _ isn‘t  _ going to work out.

The rhythm and flow he has in mind are not  _ that  _ difficult, but  _ leagues  _ above where they are now and without a miracle, this won‘t fit.

He taps his pencil against his cheek and flips over a page.

The notes are coming steadily - he will have to work them over tomorrow anyways, or a day later. Let them settle and ripe,  _ like good wine _ , but he is sceptical if this is a good idea at all.

He hasn‘t played publicly in  _ months _ , scratch that  _ years _ .

On the other hand, he can‘t very well deny it, since Oikawa had practically  _ begged  _ him  _ on his knees  _ to get a piece as wedding present.

“ _ Please  _ tell me you are at least getting along?“, Hanamaki flops down on the ground next to them.

Suga lifts his head to where Oikawa is poking his finger accusingly into Iwaizumi's chest, whose eyebrows are drawing  _ dangerously  _ close together.

He has to think about what he told Daichi at the dome:  _ When the apocalypse has passed, they will still be there, bickering _ . He had meant it as a symbol, how strong their bond was but right now, he is starting to see the irony in it.

“I can‘t say. I have a line but that‘s about it. And it‘s a fluctuation they can‘t manage unless the god of dance comes down to us and  _ enlightens them both  _ “

“It‘s  _ just  _ a Walz, it  _ can‘t  _ be that difficult!“, Hanamaki is tearing at his hair again.

“ _ Yet here we stand  _ “, Issei mumbles solemnly.

“How about you fucker  _ help  _ me instead of shitting wisdom!?“

Matsukawa sighs and checks his watch, then he pushes himself off the wooden panels and looks at Suga.

“Music?“, he asks.

Suga furrows his brows. “I‘ll try to come up with something simple“

He clicks open the case and  _ gently  _ lifts his cello out of its emerald cushion.

He can hear Maki clap his hands and call out something but Suga is not listening to him anymore. His eyes are now closed and he balances the bow on his finger.

Dipping his head to the side he gives the first string a hesitant stroke, let‘s the tone  _ resonate _ . A stronger one…  _ too low _ .

Without looking he reaches for the screw and adjusts the strain until he hits the right note.

He repeats the process with every string. 

_ God _ , he had really let her collect dust. His  _ poor beauty _ .

When the acoustics are to his liking he looks up and nods at his friends.

“Alright, we‘ll show you  _ one last time  _ \- pay attent-  ** OIKAWA ** !“, Hanamaki swats at his friend, who is turning his head away in defiance.

Suga  _ sighs _ .

Then he counts in and starts to play an easy, strictly repetitive melody for a Walz.

He‘s  _ very  _ glad he choose that one because he can feel his arm has grown stiff and his shoulders are tense.

Out of practice like  _ an amateur _ !

_ But that is what you are now! _ , he reminds himself.

He will have to practice  _ a lot  _ if he wants to play the piece he has in mind!

Soon his fingers dance over the strings, as if in trance and he looks up.

Matsun is leading Maki through the room in slow, precise strides. Iwaizumi has his head crooked to the side, obviously lost and Oikawa is scrunching his face. If in despair or concentration, Suga can not tell.

The dancing pair stops.

“Okay see, it is not.  ** That ** .  _ Hard _ . Just follow the  _ square  _ !“, Hanamaki performs the base steps once again. “And start with  _ right _ !“

“Who?“

_ “You  _ Iwaizumi,  ** you ** !“

Maki claps his hands again and watches as Oikawa arranges his arms.

He gives Suga a thumbs up and he counts in once again, starting over the same simple melody.

And miracle of miracles, they manage  _ three full base steps  _ before one of them oversteps and then get their feet all tangled up once again.

“We have a new record“, Matsukawa declares dryly. “Things can only go _ downhill  _ from here“

** *** **

Christmas goes by without Daichi noticing. Without Yui, the shop is quiet, only him and the soft tunes of the radio.

_ And _ the occasional customers. The end of the year is not their busiest season, but by far not their calmest either so he has no problem, keeping himself occupied.

Then,  _ before he knows _ _ it _ , his boss is back and with her the usual two  _ truckloads _ of homemade cookies, her mother and aunt wrap up every Christmas.

They eat them over a hot chocolate and she tells him all about her vacation.

Two days after, she drops him at the train station and it’s his turn.

New Year turns out to be only  _ half _ a disaster.

_ Sure _ , his mother keeps grabbing at his arms for five days straight and if not after the first, then after the  _ second _ time she starts to break into tears over how good he is looking, it begins to be embarrassing.

His father is a little less hysterical, but he too gives him  _ way _ too many appreciative nods, for it to be casual anymore.

His sisters,  _ naturally _ , have nothing but mockery for him and he takes it with silent submission. 

Hideko  _ constantly _ wiggled her eyebrows at him, trying her best to convince him to spill the milk.

Daichi simply tells her, he had a feeling, it was time.

Given how close his parents are with Yui’s, they already know about the ‘ _ big thing _ ’ they scored, but  _ once _ in her lifetime, his friend has been wise enough to keep her mouth  _ shut _ about the details. And Daichi is not stupid enough to be the one, telling them either!

If his mother  _ knew _ who he was decorating a wedding for, she would hype it up so much, she would  _ explode _ . His father, on the other hand, would start a  _ very _ long speech on being careful with ‘ _ these people and their lifestyle _ ’, referring to  _ whatever _ he thinks people with a lot of money do all day. Lavish parties and taking baths is champagne  _ probably _ .

And he does  _ not _ want to imagine what his sisters would do.

_ Or _ what Nozomi’s fiance would think of him.

He is not sure what his sister told her partner about him, but  _ whatever _ it is, he does  _ not _ want to correct it!

The man is nice, Daichi can’t say, he likes him at first sight, but that is probably just his brotherly scepticism. There is nothing that would actively speak out  _ against _ the man, it is just that little  _ sting _ in the back of his head.

_ You are stupid. She obviously likes him!  _

And he  _ trusts _ Nozomi to be a good judge of character. She may be a  _ little _ scatterbrained but she is  _ no fool _ !

And so he survives the annual parade without major mishaps.

He smiles as his mother tries to bake him a cake with candles and gently convinces her,  _ not to _ . He is not  _ seven _ anymore.

He gets the cake  _ anyways _ , but at least she reduces the candles down to a single one, that he,  _ of course _ , has to blow out. But given what  _ could _ have been, it is only a small piece of his pride that has to go for it.

To his great fortune, his parents focus mainly on his sister’s engagement and so he is spared the permanent interrogation he had feared.

It is  _ nice _ to sit together like this again and he realizes, he had not been home since his last birthday.

On the day of his departure, he apologizes to his mother and promises to visit more often.

She pats his cheek and kisses him on the forehead.

“You don’t need apologize, Daichi sweety. You are  _ my boy _ and your father and I, we love you  _ plenty _ !”

He nods and now  _ he _ is the one holding back the tears.

“Oh  _ shush _ , get your train, before we both make a mess”, she swats at him, already searching for tissues.

He leaves with a warm feeling in his chest.

His ride back is a  _ mess _ . As it seems, a snowstorm has uprooted several trees along the tracks in Tochigi and he ends up home, delayed by  _ three _ whole hours.

Daichi kicks open his door, covered in snow from toes to hair tips and dragging his duffle bag behind him. He just wants to go to bed and he wants to  _ stay _ there!

The thought of getting out early tomorrow, for his morning jog in this weather is  _ already _ grossing him out, but he knows he needs it  _ badly _ .

His mother had wrapped out presumably the  _ entire _ list of Sawamura family recipes and he must have gained half a ton just by  _ looking _ at all the food, never mind actually  _ eating _ it.

He is so focused on getting out of his wet coat and stiff clothes, he only notices the little brown package on his kitchen table after he has showered and intents to scrap together whatever food he didn’t clean out before he left.

That had  _ not _ been there before!

He takes a closer look at the thing, curiously chewing a plain wrap. He doesn’t have anything to put onto the flat dough disc.

A post-it is attached to the top and he recognizes Yui’s handwriting: _ Arrived for you. _

He shrugs and  _ flops _ down onto a chair, pulling it closer.

It’s neither heavy nor light and of a rather average size.

Putting down his wrap bread he rips open the plain brown packing paper and lets the contents slip into his hand.

The first that slides out is a book. 

Daichi furrows his brows. He  _ did not _ order that!

Maybe an address got confused?

He  _ shakes _ the paper and a card drops out onto the table.

Picking it up, he lets his eyes drift over the gracious stamping, that shows tree branches spreading on a pastel green ground. 

Daichi takes another bite out his ‘ _ meal _ ’, turns it over and reads the sleek letters.

> _ I asked Yui-San what kind of books you like best and I hope that I got the right impression.  _
> 
> _ I am not certain if this is not too staged at some points but personally, I liked it a lot and I thought maybe you would too. If not, receipt is behind the first page, so you can return it and buy one you like more.  _
> 
> _ Happy Birthday.  _
> 
> _ Sugawara  _

Daichi feels his cheeks warm up as he stares at the words over and  _ over _ again.

Eventually, he spots something else: In the very bottom corner, there is a crooked but readable footnote.

> _ PS: Hanamaki was here.  _

He  _ snorts _ and puts the card down, fingers tracing over Suga’s narrow, yet smooth handwriting, then he turns his full attention to the book.

He wonders what  _ exactly _ Yui told the silver-haired since it was hard to describe his taste in  _ words _ . It was more of a  _ feeling _ but if he had too Daichi liked to try like this:

He likes  _ books of all genres  _ that have a _ psychological  _ and _ sophisticated  _ plot, but without being too  _ coerced _ . He  _ needs _ his brain working,  _ loves _ to anticipate the twists and to emphasize with the character's motivations and decisions. But  _ only _ as long as those are indeed relatable and not so daring and hideously overdone they become unrealistic.

He likes foreign and domestic authors, he like realism just as much as dragons and robots, he likes about  _ every genre _ , as long as within the realm of the setting the characters and plot twists are  _ relatable _ .

And so he runs his fingers over the softcover and backbone of the book. 

_ The Modigliani Scandal _ \- by  _ Ken Follet _ .

He’s  _ seen _ the name before but he doesn’t think he has ever  _ read _ a Follet before.

Daichi turns over the book and starts to read the blurb.

It sounds interesting and he nods to himself as he takes book and card with him to bed and sets both down by his nightstand.

Even after he switches off the light, he lays awake and stares at the dulled, still somehow fresh-looking green in the relative darkness of the room.

His chest feels very warm as he reaches to turn the card over and reads the text once again, through squinted eyes.

_ Sugawara _ ...

** *** **

“Koshi dear, would you hand me the spatula?”

Suga does as requested, then he goes back to chopping the vegetables, humming along to the music playing.

“Thank you. I don’t know what I did  _ wrong, _ that  _ you _ have to help me out”, Matsukawa Mirai sighs, then she turns and shoots the living room a dirty look.

Suga doesn’t have to turn, to know what is happening there. He can  _ hear _ it.

Tokiomi has his younger brother in a headlock and Mr.Matsukawa is very calmly watching their little wrestle unfold.

He chuckles.

“Don’t worry, I am glad I can help”, he smiles at her and she ruffles his hair affectionately.

“I should encourage your grandmother to write a book on how to raise kids right! I am  _ sure _ it would be a bestseller in no time”, Mrs.Matsukawa sighs, but a smile is curling her lips softly.

Suga looks back down at the paprika and blushes a little. “It was not just her”, he mumbles.

The woman does not say anything about it, but he can feel her warm eyes on him, then she too turns back to the food they are preparing.

For another minute they work in silence, music mixing with the banter from the living room, then the doorbell rings and Mirai looks back up to her husband.

“That must be Kaede”, she glances at the pendulum clock.

“I’ll get it”, the tall man rises from his designated lounge chair and vanishes into the hallway.

“ _ Alright _ _ then _ , I think we can put the meat in the oven”, Mrs.Matsukawa nods to herself and leaves for the other side of the generous kitchen to do just that.

“ _ Ko-Chan _ ”, a hand ruffles his hair and he knows he has a sleazy grinning, the tall-ass chief editor behind him.

He turns and gets an, even more intense, head rubble. "Nice to see you Kaede"

“Where did ya leave the rest of the idiots?”, she leans over him and snacks a slice of paprika.

“Oh,  _ Iwaizumi and Oikawa _ have to work a little on their parents and  _ Maki _ has a case, that is hitting the hot phase”, he tells her and rearranges his hair.

“Unfortunate suckers”, she grins and Suga can’t help but once again wonder why the genes in the Matsukawa family are so  _ unevenly _ distributed.

Kaede and her first brother Benjiro both have a  _ striking _ resemblance to their  _ father _ . Tall as mountains, broad in the shoulders, eyes wide and sharp like headlights and straight dark hair. The third, Tokiomi, is his  _ mothers _ _ spitting image _ , a bit smaller than his siblings, slim body, dark amygdalae eyes and a mess of unruly ebony curls on his head. Last but not least, there is Issei, youngest of the four and  _ somewhere _ right in the  _ middle _ . He has his father's height and hair colour, but his mother’s slender build, oval eyes and curls.

And  _ then _ there is Suga, standing out like a sore thumb. Whenever he is on family visits like this, he comes home with  _ neck cramps _ , from constantly having to face upwards.

At some point, he just started to talk to peoples  _ belts _ , because he can’t keep his head craned back  _ all the time _ .

It also makes him subject to a  _ lot _ of head ruffles.

“Ben not coming?”, Kaede now asks her mother and gives her a welcoming hug.

“No, he is spending this year with Julia’s family”, the woman hums.

Suga has never really gotten to know Issei’s oldest brother.

By the time the Matsukawas had more or less adopted him, the man had already moved out to attend college in  _ New Zealand _ , where he had met his wife and was living with their two kids. Suga can count the times he’s met him on  _ one  _ hand.

But to be honest. Three are already  _ enough _ and compared to his siblings, Issei is already rather  _ tame _ .

Toki likes to crack jokes, almost as bad as Makis and Kaede - well, is  _ Kaede _ .

“ _ Back off _ . Finders keepers!”, and he can feel Issei snake an arm around him, having freed himself from his brother.

“ _ Excuse me _ . I am not some  _ Yen _ you find on the sidewalk!”, Suga huffs.

“Yes, you  _ are _ !”, Toki calls from the sofa and looks at them expectantly. “You know, because a Yen is  _ silver _ and your  _ hair  _ is...,  _ get it _ !?”, he grins, eyebrows rising.

“My  _ God _ , I can’t believe I am related to  _ that _ !”, Kaede just shakes her head and goes to get herself a glass of water.

“People say you pick your partner after your  _ parents _ . I am afraid I may have ended up with one that comes after my  _ brother _ \- which may very well be  _ worse _ !”, Matsun deadpans and Suga grins, then he pokes him in the ribs.

“Matsun, I am  _ not _ a single Yen!”, he repeats.

“Course you’re not. You’re  _ 500 _ at least”

Suga elbows him. “Oh  _ get out _ , I have paprika to cut!”

Issei huffs out, holding his side, but that shitty grin is still on his face as Suga pointedly turns around and back to his cooking.

“Want me to help you?”

“I don’t know,  _ can you _ ?”, Suga snaps, trying to sulk but failing  _ horribly _ .

Matsun sighs, then he ruffles his hair a lot  _ gentler _ than his sister, picks up a knife and begins to sharpen in with practised motions.

His brother is  _ very much _ a stereotype medicine man. His handwriting is  _ crappy _ beyond comparison, he is very  _ dutiful  _ when it comes to having a healthy diet and staying in shape and looks  _ criminally _ good in a white coat. However, the only odd one out he allows himself is  _ cooking _ . 

Matsukawa Issei is most likely the  _ only doctor in the world _ who loves to cook.

And so they start to work side by side until the entire basket of vegetable is cut into piece and Mrs Matsukawa ushers them out into the living room to take a break until the meat would be done.

Suga leans against Issei and he puts an arm over his shoulder as they take up one of the two large sofas.

It has been a while since he managed to relax like this.

And he wants to savour  _ every _ moment of it because as soon they get back home to the city, preparations for spring exhibit and wedding are going to enter the  _ hot _ phase.

Mr.Matsukawa orders his usual  _ full report _ of what they have been up too and so Matsun talks a little about his medication study and Suga about the running exhibition.

“I heard you picked up the bow again”, Amida raises his eyebrows.

“Oh, yes.  _ Tooru _ asked for it. But I am stagnating a little”

“Would you still care to play for us later?”

Suga nods a bit shy. “I can  _ try _ ”

That seems to satisfy the man.

Suga has always liked the Matsukawa family and their mindset.

It is not in small parts thanks to their generous funding that he survived both High School and University.

Matsukawa Amida expects exactly  _ one _ thing of his children: That they do what they do with pride, with honour and most importantly with  _ excellence _ ! Whether they choose to become a  _ reporter _ , an  _ electrical engineer _ , a  _ farmer _ or a  _ neurologist _ . As long as they do what they do with heart, sincerity and  _ skill _ , they have all blessings they could ever need.

And despite all his flaws, failings and changes of lane, he has extended that rule to Suga as well - something he will be  _ forever _ grateful for!

They drive home two days after and when Suga shows up to the shop, Daichi is already gone. So he tries to  _ subtly _ extract some information from Michimiya, but the way she grins at him, he feels like she has her very own ideas of where this should head. Suga contemplates over his choice for almost an entire days, going through all  _ his _ books at home, then through the  _ city library _ and then  _ every single bookstore _ he knows until he makes his choice.

He drafts the card at least a  _ hundred _ times until he just gives up and writes down whatever comes to mind.

“It’s  _ weird, _ isn’t it!?”, he asks Maki, who is lounging over his sofa.

“ _ Dude _ . It’s not the reinvention of the wheel. Just write  _ whatever _ ”

“You are  _ no _ help.  _ At all _ !”, Suga hisses at him, then he reads his words again and  _ again _ and then a third and a  _ thirtieth  _ time.

“Okay, we’ll do it like  _ this _ ”, and Hanamaki plucks the thing from his hands and takes up a pen.

Suga goes white from shock as he watches his friend scribble something in the bottom and he pulls at his hair. “ _ Maaaaakiiiiiiiiiii _ ”

“ _ What _ ? See, 200 per cent improvement, less awkward and revenge for the  _ Doritos _ .  _ Three _ flies with  _ one _ slap!”, he proudly announces and slips the card into the package.

“Now let’s get this over with, I am  _ starving _ and Zumi is probably waiting already”

They go by the postal office and Suga gives the brown package a last look, then he slides it across the counter.

_ It is just a birthday gift!  _

** *** **

“No”, Oikawa looks absolutely  _ disgusted _ at the mere idea.

“ _ Why _ ?”, Iwaizumi is flexing his hands.

“I am not going to dress as a  _ frog _ !”, Tooru crosses his arms and turns his head away.

“But  _ you _ look good,  _ I _ look good, can we  _ please _ just take this?”, he tries to beg.

“Hmpf”, his partner snorts out his disbelieve. “Oh  _ please _ ”

“Alright then, make a  _ better _ suggestion!”, Iwaizumi grits out.

“The  _ blue _ was totally fine!”, Oikawa snaps back.

Now it is Iwaizumi’s turn to snort out his disbelieve. “That was the same colour as my grandmother fifty-year-old  _ tapestry _ !”

“It was better than  _ this _ !”

“No, it  _ wasn’t _ ”

A loud  _ groan _ and Hanamaki lets himself fall over the side of the sofa, eyes empty and dull.

Matsukawa, who is leaning against the wall next to it looks down, eyebrow raised. “I  _ think _ you broke him”

“Grow a  _ spine _ , Hiro”, Oikawa hisses, then he reaches over and starts to undo Iwaizumi’s tie. “This is a  _ big _ no!”

Iwaizumi turns to look at all of them. Hiro as obviously left the land of the living, Matsun seems one more breath away from joining him and  _ even Madeleine _ looks slightly desperate by now. He has  _ never _ seen the stylist like this.

“I am out of ideas”, she admits, her slight French accent making it sound like a death sentence.

And  _ that _ settles it.

But it also puts them at a dead end, because now they have tried  _ every _ possible colour there is and they have not found a single one to agree on.

Why was this so damn  _ hard _ ?

“Thank you anyway - we… I think we just need to let it  _ sink _ a little”, he tries to smile at her. She grunts out something French he doesn’t understand and leaves with a little flick of her hand.

He is just going to get married in  _ jeans _ and  _ t-shirt _ !

Speaking of getting married: “Are you saying no, because you  _ actually _ think the colour is shit or because you are  _ mad _ at me because I said 'yes' to Ushijima?”, Iwaizumi asks and Oikawa  _ snaps _ .

“How  _ could _ you!”

“I thought you would  _ like _ it!”, Iwaizumi yells back.

“Oh,  _ ohhhhhh _ , alright, yes sounds  _ lovely _ , getting married by that, that....  _ fungus _ !”, Oikawa snaps and  _ rips _ the tie out of Iwaizumi’s collar, giving his neck a painful jerk.

“He is the  _ governor _ , god damn it! I thought you would  _ jump _ at the chance to make this as flashy as possible!”

“Could you  _ not _ scream,  _ thank _ you!”, Suga looks up from his laptop, brows furrowed.

They have occupied the entire third-floor changing room of Oikawa’s favourite store. 

“I  _ do not care _ if he is  _ governor _ or  _ president of Mars _ ! Bad enough you made me invite him, but speaking our  _ vows _ with his blessing!? How  _ on earth _ could you say ' _ yes' _ to that?”, Tooru’s voice is a high pitched, pressed and hysterical mess.

Iwaizumi snaps back, just as gritted: “Because you  _ always _ insist that this has to be  _ special _ and frankly: As long as  _ the emperor himself _ doesn’t do it, I couldn’t think of a  _ higher _ person to seal the deal!”

“Iwaizumi is right you know! It’s a high honour. And  _ besides, _ you just sign papers is a stuffy office. You get your show in the evening”, Matsun tilts his head.

“ _ Thank you! _ ”, Iwaizumi calls out.

They both earn a  _ poisonous _ glare. “I’d rather sign my marriage documents with the blessing of a  _ dumpster rat, _ than Ushijima Wakatoshi!”, he spits.

“ _ Hey _ ”, Suga looks up again. “He is a nice guy!”

“ _ How _ can you be  _ this _ petty!?”, Iwaizumi pulls at his hair. “It has been fifteen years, Tooru.  _ Fifteen years _ !”

“And he is  _ still _ pissing me off!”, Oikawa snaps back, then he turns and whisks off into the changing room.

“ _ Urghhhh _ ”, Maki groans from the floor and Iwaizumi plops down into the spot he has vacated.

This is going to be a disaster.

“Is it too late to leave the country?”, he groans, face buried in his hands.

Suga sighs and closes his laptop, then he stands up and follows Tooru.

The three of them wait in silence.

They can hear Oikawa snap something and Koshi answer gently.

Then Oikawa barks again and this time he is undercut by a loud  _ whack _ and a wail.

“ _ Ouch _ ”, Matsun grimaces.

“My money is on  _ chest _ ”, Hanamaki offers from the carpeted ground.

“ _ Nah _ , that was a  _ hip _ whack”, Iwaizumi shakes his head.

Moments later the door opens and Suga drags their problem child out by his ear.

“Ow,  _ ow _ , ow,  _ ow _ ”, Tooru whimpers.

Buf Suga simply forces his head down into a crooked bow and taps his foot expectantly.

His face is still as a mask and it is the most terrifying thing Iwaizumi has ever seen - well  _ apart _ from the other times someone has managed to get Suga this pissed.

“ _ Tooru _ ”, his tone is calm and about as pleasant as a  _ blunt nail _ being slowly pushed into your skull.

“The green is good”, Oikawa mumbles, just loud enough to hear.

Iwaizumi sighs and rakes his hand through his hair, tousling it even further.

“No the green is  _ horrible _ , you were right.”, he looks down at the cuffs of the jacket, then at the mirror, dominating the right wall. “It’s clashing with my eyes”, he sighs.

His friends groan collectively.

“You  _ have _ to be kidding me!”, Suga is one step away from yelling himself, then he releases Tooru and returns to his laptop. “If you can’t decide on a colour soon, you can  _ really _ get married by a dumpster rat!”, he mumbles under his breath.

The second he is free, Oikawa dives forward and straight into Iwaizumi’s arms with a snivel. His ear is bright red and he rubs his hip, trying to seek shelter under Iwaizumi’s arm, all resentment  _ left behind _ in the wake of facing an unnerved Koshi.

Hajime gives in with a  _ sigh _ . Suga is not wrong, but…

“As long as it’s  _ you _ , I have no objections,  _ even _ if it’s gonna be the rat”, he leans down and puts a kiss on the scared thing cuddled into his side.

Hanamaki mimics throwing up: “ _ Barf _ ”, he groans out, complimenting the motion.

Iwaizumi kicks him.

Oikawa muffles something whiney and pouty, that he can’t quite comprehend, into the dress shirt.

“Do you think we could get  _ Pizza-Rat _ ?”

He looks down and blinks at the sly face looking up at him. Then he bursts into laughter.

Oikawa’s head is smoothed against his, as they walk down the aisle.  _ Of the store _ \- whops, that might have gotten out the wrong way.

Iwaizumi has his arm slung over the other's hips. Their little fight is not yet forgotten and they will have to make a decision  _ soon _ , but for now, he is none too eager on picking up the yelling once more.

Suga and Matsun are somewhere in front of them, dragging a barely conscious Takahiro behind them. “I need  _ food _ ”, their friend mumbles deliriously.

Hajime sighs. Yeah, food sounds  _ great _ . Something fatty and with meat.  _ Burger _ !

“How about the steakhouse?”, he asks thus.

“I  _ don’t care, _ as long as it’s  _ food _ ”, Hanamaki groans back.

“ _ Iwa-Chan _ ”, Oikawa still sounds too small, to be comfortable.

Suga can be  _ one hell _ of a terrifying presence and Iwaizumi prays to all heavens he will  _ never _ ever get a scolding from him again. That one time, over ten years back, was  _ enough _ for a  _ lifetime _ !

“ _ Hm _ ”, he looks up at his partner and Oikawa pointedly avoids his eyes.

“‘ _ mn sorry _ . UshiWaka is…  _ fine _ ”, he says it like he’s forced to.

“If you don’t want to, we  _ don’t _ have to”, Iwaizumi shakes his head.

“I just wish you would have  _ told _ me… I guess I was just a little too surprised”, the taller mumbles.

“I’m  _ sorry _ , Tooru”, he stops and forces the other to look at him, then he sighs deeply. He has  _ never _ been good with putting all this emotional stuff into words. “I just. I  _ thought _ it would be a great surprise”

Oikawa huffs out: “ _ UshiWaka _ is a surprise about as pleasant as  _ diarrhea _ ”, he grimaces and Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “ _ But _ … as long as it’s  _ you _ , I have no objections,  _ even _ if it’s Wakatoshi”

He raises his eyebrow at Tooru.

“I mean”, Oikawa turns his head away. “I would  _ still _ prefer  _ Pizza-Rat _ , bu-”

He pulls his shit-headed fiance down into a kiss, cutting off that sentence and the other runs his hand through the short hair in Iwaizumi’s neck, humming into their joined lips.

“ _ Oh good _ , you are still here!”, Suga is a little breathless, as he grabs both of them by their wrists, little to no respect for the soft moment they were having and starts to pull them back towards the dressing room.

“Maki found it”, and with that he gives them a  _ push _ , causing them to stumble into the large cabin. “ _ Out _ of your clothes.... okay you know what, I  _ don’t trust you _ to stop at the underwear - Hajime, you are coming  _ with me _ !”

And with that, he grabs Iwaizumi once again and pulls him from Tooru’s touch, stuffing him into a different cabin.

He hits his elbow on the door handle and rubs it, face scrunched up.

_ What the hell.  _

** *** **

Oikawa fidgets with his tie and Maki slaps his hand away.

“Will you  _ stop _ it!”, he hisses.

But he can’t help but check his appearance in the polished vase in the corner.

“And you are  _ sure _ ?”, he can’t help but ask.

“ _ Yes _ ”, Hanamaki and Matsukawa say in unison and equally deadpan.

“That one is  _ perfect _ . Like the two hundred others before, only  _ more _ !”, his best man nods.

“I must say, I was  _ sceptical _ but,  _ le Dieu _ , what a sight”, Madeleine has her chin resting in one of her hands with those chic, slender and polished nails. “Taking from the casual wear is a little  _ debatable _ , but I think the fit makes up for that”

Oikawa is  _ not _ convinced.

That changes  _ quickly _ .

It changes in less than a heartbeat and all it takes is a door to open.

“Tooru?”, Iwaizumi looks a little concerned. He has good reason to because Oikawa is in  _ dire _ need of an ambulance.

“ _ Shittykawa _ !?”

He knows he should react but he can’t stop  _ gawking _ . And he can’t decide whether he wants Iwaizumi to wear these clothes  _ forever _ or rip them off and make the other take him  _ right _ then and there.

“ _ Hyyy _ ”, he manages eventually.  _ Okay _ , that was  _ not _ a coherent word.

“I believe that settles it?”, Madeleine asks his friends.

“Think so, and we’ll take a defibrillator as well”, Matsun grins.

_ Good idea _ , Tooru silently agrees.

His  _ knees _ are very weak.  _ He _ is very weak. Weak for  _ this _ !

Iwaizumi sights, but the shitty smirk is giving his away - A very  _ sexy _ smirk, Tooru might note - and he reaches out to straighten his tie.

“It’s crooked”, he mumbles lowly and brushes non-existent dust of the brown-haired’s chest, green eyes looking him up and down,  _ drinking _ in the sight.

Oikawa swallows hard. 

“Can you  _ please _ wait with the sex until you’re home”, Suga deadpans right next to them and both men flinch apart.

“That  _ would _ be appreciated”, Madeleine nods along, shooting them a stylish and sharp, raised eyebrow.

“Yes…  _ No _ … I mean”, he has to clear his throat. “This… this seems good”, he tells the ceiling.

“If you don’t take this, I  _ swear _ , I will quit!”, Suga gnashes with a daring glare.

“ _ This _ …”, Oikawa shoots Iwaizumi another glance and his words turn into a little  _ whimper _ . God, he is so  _ pathetic _ . And  _ needy _ \- right this moment  _ more _ needy than embarrassed!

Iwaizumi looks back at him, eyes hungry, but furthermore so full of warmth and love. “ _ This _ !”, he says firmly.

"Great, and while we are at it, could you  _ please _ learn how to dance, _ thank you _ ", Maki deadpans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was a little... I don't know.  
I made a time table and as you might have guessed by know, the story is set over a wider span of time and so I am trying to fill the episodes where time simply passes by without just skipping them - and that's how this happens.
> 
> But I hope you liked it anyways, I have one more large chapter, that I wrote in my time out and another shorter one and then we are back to the regular schedule (so none, *caugh*)


	6. Chapter 5: Not all things start with a wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vows are spoken and stories are told.

"You got kicked out too?", the voice is sleepy, yet taunting.

"Get _lost_ Satori"

"_Uhhh_, _someone_ got up on the wrong foot", a snicker and something blocks his light. It is still early, but the sky is already bright and the rays are streaming through the high windows.

Matsukawa _sighs_ and looks up from his phone.

The other grins at him, head crooking to the side in an angle that _should not be_ possible and is definitely _not_ healthy!

"Why are you here? Did Oikawa _already_ try to murder you?", he asks back and the redhead crackles into his hand.

"_Oh_, all angry eyes but he is just _such_ a softie your diva. Can't stay mad for long when he has _little_, little _Iwa-Chan_ with him, _can he_?", the man croons.

Matsun sighs. Unfortunately the other is _not_ wrong. But _like hell,_ he is going to tell him that!

"Don't you have better things to do? I don't think Ushijima is paying you to _annoy_ people", he looks back down on his screen. So far everything at the Dome seems to be in order. As the master of show, it is his job to make sure the thing isn't _on fire_ when they arrive there.

"Hm... _maybe_ not, but what is life without a _teeny_ tiny bit of fun. Especially when they get all serious in there. Not good for my skin all these _vows_ and _promises_", Tendou rocks on his heels.

Matsukawa grunts something incoherent. He is just waiting for the signing to be over.

It's not like he is _mad_ or anything, that only grooms and best men are allowed in, for the official part. That's just how it _is_ and he is actually rather glad, that they left him out of it. He does not envy his friends, that had to deal with two scared _chickens_ over the last days. He probably would have lost his patience at some point and put them into a locker at the train station. _Oikawa_ just needs someone to distract him, like only _Maki_ can and _Iwaizumi_ needs a gentle pillar, like _Suga_. He isn't _fit_ for being best man. At least not _here_!

Tendou starts to _dance_ up and down the hallway, humming under his breath and Matsun's eyebrow begins to twitch. _How_ can Suga spend time with this guy? Are they just sassing each other to death? Or have they gained mutual respect _by_ sassing each other to death? He doesn't know and _frankly_, if he _did_, he would most certainly have nightmares for weeks.

"Can you _stop_?", he thus grits out. Tendou halts mid-movement, one leg in the air, arms spread like a figure skater. "_Thank you_", Matsukawa tells him deadpan.

_Sweet, sweet silence_. And a discrete cough.

He looks up and Suga smiles at him from the door, beckoning him with his hands.

Matsukawa sighs and stands up, dusting off his hands.

"Tendou, you can come too, if you want to", Suga grins and Matsun raises an eyebrow.

"You _sure_ that's a good idea?", he asks and Sugas smile turns just the tiniest bit _evil_.

"We want to _exhaust_ them a little, so they sleep the afternoon and we don't have to deal with any more chickening", he whispers and Issei snorts. _Way to go._

Tendou skips after them, humming _again_.

Matsukawa would _love_ to smite him. He _hates_ that guy! But Suga starts to pick up a little chatter with the lanky redhead, so he just blends them out.

To his general amazement, the room has _not yet_ turned into a battlefield and Oikawa has _not yet_ stabbed Ushijima through the eye. _Damn_, there go his ten bucks to Kuro. _Then again_, they still have time.

The broad man is wearing his ceremonial sash and looks very proud of himself. _Or_ depressed. _Or_ hungry. Matsukawa can't tell.

"I wish you the best!", he says and shakes Iwaizumi's hand and then Oikawa's, who is only _slightly_ recoiling.

"_Thank_ you!", the former sincerely tells him.

"Do not thank me. It is my duty and my honour to profess a bond of such true love, for such dear friends"

Oikawa is turning _positively purple_ at that last one. "Don't start crying", he chokes out.

Iwaizumi tries to whack him _discreetly_.

"I wasn't going to", Ushijima furrows his brows.

Matsun exchanges a glance, first with Suga, then with Takahiro. They both just shrug. Time to sooth the atmosphere a little.

"_Alright_ come here", he sighs and starts to wrap one arm around Iwaizumi and one around Oikawa.

"_Congratulations_, you are officially old now", Maki joins in, clapping a couple of times.

Issei gets jabbed in the ribs and someone steps on his foot.

"No one needs enemies when they have you guys for friends!", Iwaizumi _tries_ to sound dunning but he is smiling to much for it to work.

"Okay, _gather around everyone_. Tendou, would you do us the honours?", and Suga pulls his camera from his messenger bag. They have Akaashi to take professional pictures for the party later, but for now, they are just the five of them. Or seven, _depending_.

"As you wish, _good Sir_", Satori bows lavishly and takes the camera.

They huddle up and Oikawa even manages a _smile_, despite having to stand right next to his self-declared nemesis _slash_ dear friend, or whatever it is now and they take a couple. Tendou _actually_ takes it seriously and clicking his tongue he assures some worthy pictures.

Good, that was the _easy_ part. Now they are facing the dragon's lair.

Or in this case: The _firebird's_.

*******

_The Grand Happening_ as they have nicknamed it turns out to be not so grand at all.

Daichi and Yui spend the entire morning and midday helping with decorations and arranging the flowers.

And he can‘t help but _stop_ once in a while to let his eyes drift over the edge of the terrace and the city far below. There is a soft breeze up here and the weather holds perfectly. Sunny for early February, the warmth gathering comfortably in the giant conservatory.

Once in awhile, he sees Sugawara or Matsukawa hush through the venue, checking on things.

Yui almost _instantly_ makes friends with the technicians and the catering girls.

Once the guests arrive, they start to stay in the background and their newly won friends turn out to be a _real_ asset here.

_Especially_ the catering girls who grant them access to what might be the most creative and yet in their simplicity absolutely _amazing_ snacks Daichi has ever seen and tasted.

The party has style, the venue is _breathtaking_ and Daichi is trying _really_ hard, not to kidnap the food trays. The air has something familiar and friendly.

Some of the guests are intimidating but they all greet the pair of the day like old friends and all in all it feels more like a couple of _buddies_ getting together at a bar and not the _nation's elite_ sipping champagne on top of the city skyline.

And yet nobody manages to compare in _any way_ with the main actors of tonight. Only due to Sugas lament he knows how hard it was to find a colour that both Oikawa and Iwaizumi could live, with but the deep and intense _ruby red_ accents look absolutely _stunning_ on both of them.

The look is simple and yet _exquisitely_ elegant.

Daichi misses most of the beginning, as he is helping out the technicians stapling their boxes back into the vans and by the time he returns, Yui has already made good advertisement for them. He shakes a few hands, greets the gang, then he redraws to watch a little from the sidelines.

His first _major_ realization of the day is, that _not Oikawa_, but _his mother_ should be a national treasure. The woman is shorter than her son, has the same soft hair and a smile like a midsummer bonfire. Daichi gets _instantly_ comfortable when she shakes his hand. 

In Iwaizumi’s family, on the other hand, it seems to be his _father_ who is an _absolute delight_.

In the two minutes of introduction that Daichi spends with him, he cracks half a dozen jokes and by the end, his wife has to _whack_ him in the side. But it’s already far too late, as Suga, Hanamaki and Matsukawa are leaning against one another, _wheezing_ before Iwaizumi junior can drag them on.

His last family enlightenment happens when someone wraps an arm around his neck and he is pulled very close by _the most terrifying woman_ he has ever met, very much _including_ one Tanaka Saeko.

„So _you_ are Flowers Guy, _huh_. I‘ll tell you this now, so you better _watch out_, because I got an eye on you and If _you_ mess with _our_ small one, you better be aware that Issei has _nothing_ on me!“, she tells him very firmly and with a dangerous smile. He just nods and swallows hard. _Who the hell was that?_

The evening unravels slowly and at a leisure pace.

A few people, like Oikawa’s father, his nephew and Iwaizumi, hold a little speech before the food is released to the public and Daichi decides to help out the catering girls.

He doesn‘t have much to do, now that everything is set up and his only job is, to once in a while check if everything still looks good, straighten out flaws and replace nicked flowers.

_Yui_ is the one taking most of the compliments and questions about their shop - she _is_ the boss after all.

So he lends a hand wherever he can to keep himself busy.

That is until he finds his way blocked by the second tallest, but certainly most _intimidating_ man he has ever seen.

_Ushijima Wakatoshi_ blinks down at him. Daichi swallows.

„Are _you_ the chef?“

„I _um_, no. I am just lending a hand“, Daichi says, _very_ proud that his voice doesn‘t shake. Spending time with the Volley people was useful _after all_.

„Very noble. Please excuse the misunderstanding. I was led to this misconception since your apron has a different colour “, the man tells him, very firmly, „May I ask how you are associated with the pair?“

„I am here for the _flowers_“, Daichi answers him and tries to make a vague gesture at a bundle standing on a close-by table _without_ dropping the plates he is holding.

„I assume you made the initial bouquet then. I _greatly_ admired your work. The language of flowers is a difficult art with rich tradition and history! Those who understand it, can consider themselves proud of an honourable occupation!“, he declares with a solemn nod and Daichi croaks out a small: „_Thank you_“

„No problem. Do you know where I might find the chef?“, Ushijima asks looking around.

„I don‘t know where he is _right now_, but if there is a problem, I can look for him“, he offers.

The man blinks at him as if that would be the most _ridiculous_ thing ever and then explains. „On the contrary. I meant to compliment him on the excellent choice of cheese!“, Ushijima straightens his back and gives Daichi a stern nod.

„I will continue looking for him. Thank you for the disclosure“, and gone he is.

But the undoubted highlight of the evening turns out to be _Matsukawa_, who took his responsibility as moderator _very_ serious and came up with a brilliant program.

He stands on a little podium, leans against the DJ‘s console and taps his microphone.

„So, this thing on? _Perfect_“, he says and looks over the guests. „Little mic check, everyone“, he grins and turns to his left where Iwaizumi and Oikawa are seated, still adjusting their microphones.

The later with practised motions, the former fighting a little with the clip.

„Can I _already_ jump, or do I _have_ to live through the humiliation I am expecting?“, Iwaizumi asks with a deadpan tone and Oikawa rolls his eyes.

„I know where you _live,_ Issei“, he informs his friend with an intense glare.

„Request for Suicide, _check_. Threat upon my life, also _check_. Guys,_ slow down_ or this bingo is going to be over in no time“, Matsukawa grins back, hands lifted pacifying.

A little chuckle runs through the crowd.

He continues a bit of small talk with the people, before getting down to the point.

„_So_ now that we have enjoyed bread and wine, I think in the _old Roman tradition_, what the masses demand is _entertainment_“, and he turns to his friends with a mischievous smile.

„Oh G_od_, I knew it“, Iwaizumi mumbles under his breath, but thanks to the microphone he is _very clearly_ audible.

„_Yes_“, Matsukawa muses and takes out a little remote. „If the howling masses would now please direct their attention to the screen“

It turns out to be a slideshow of old pictures and videos, _fabulously_ narrated by Matsukawa and filled_ to the top_ with funny anecdotes and interesting facts.

He starts with Oikawa and Iwaizumi as children mostly makes short comments or tells little anecdotes.

„And at this point, I want to thank the real heroes of tonight, _the Oikawa and Iwaizumi households_, who have so generously provided me with two friends to make fun of and all the pictures and stories we have enjoyed so far. What follows now is, in fact, the main part of tonight's presentation, as most of the material is from our group, so _you guessed it_: It‘s _High School time_“, he announces and lifts his microphone into the air. „_Drumroll please_, people, you aren‘t getting this for free“

A little thunder rolls through the room, as the guests perform the requested and Matsukawa continues.

He goes on with how they first met and shows a lot of pictures from the volleyball club.

The first one is a big group shot of 9 boys and an unreadable subtitle.

„And here we have all the first years in the Club and _that_ is also pretty much what is written in the corner. Whenever people ask me: _Issei, is your handwriting this bad because you are a doctor, or did you become one because it was already crappy before?_, my answer is usually: _Yes_“, Matsukawa explains, then proceeds with telling the story of how he just wanted to read manga in his lunch break and ended up being forcibly socialized by Hanamaki and Iwaizumi.

_Apparently_ the later had already known Oikawa since early childhood and had dragged him along into making friends.

Daichi notices that it takes a little until _Suga_ appears in the private group shots as well.

Every anecdote is well-chosen, not too long and gives a perfect insight into Oikawa’s and Iwaizumi’s characters.

And even though not all of them are _hunky-dory_ and some shine a good light on the darker sides of both men, they are still chosen in a way they are reliable and sympathetic.

Daichi's _favorite_ is a video of the gang preparing a secret investigation on Oikawa’s hair at the beginning of their senior year.

> It‘s Hanamaki, age 17, in front of the old camera, clearing his throat. „We have _May 6th, 2012_ at _exactly 8:39 pm_.“, he declares.
> 
> „_8:40_“, a voice from the background.
> 
> „What?“
> 
> „It‘s _8:40_, Maki“, and now Daichi can identify the voice as Suga.
> 
> „_What ever_ \- today we have gathered here to investigate the _mysterious miracle of Oikawa Tooru’s flawless hair_. To once and for all bring _light_ into the _darkness_ and let coming generations rest in peace, _unbothered by this mystery_, we are about to pull a _daring all-nighter_ and solve this case.“
> 
> The camera moves over a bedroom, that is stuffed with five beddings and it stops at Iwaizumi and Matsukawa sitting cross legged across one another, busy with an intense round of whatever video game they are playing.
> 
> „I am _telling_ you, no matter how _frustrating_ it is, but he _actually_ wakes up like that! So I am going to sleep because this is _stupid_“, young Iwaizumi tells them without looking away from his screen.
> 
> „No offense, but you sleep like a _brick_ Iwaizumi and I am not trusting you with this one, you _traitor_!“, Hanamaki declares, then there is a lot of shuffling and a surprised yelp, before the camera shuts off. Apparently because Oikawa walked in and got hit in the face by a pillow that Iwaizumi _swears_ had been meant for Hanamaki.

„So now“, Matsukawa asks. „What happened,_ that fateful night_? _Does_ he style himself early in the morning to fool us all or is this just another example of _blatant injustice_ in the world?“

He makes a dramatic pause and Oikawa grins _smugly_.

The next image is a selfie of a well-rested Iwaizumi, but what is more important is the _background_.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki are hanging over a living room table, absolutely _sleep-deprived_, while Oikawa eats a bowl of cereal, still in his pyjamas, with _flawless_ hair and a confused expression. Suga is at the far end of the room, where the kitchen seems to be and makes a barely visible peace sign towards the camera.

„Sadly, he really _does_ wake up like this“

There is laughter and a few jealous sighs.

„Furthermore this is the _only documented case_ of Iwaizumi Hajime taking a _selfie_“, Matsukawa declares like a tour guide in a museum and he earns more friendly laughter.

He moves on with their social struggles, how their team rose the ranks and went to nationals.

One of the pictures, taken after their first win, shows Suga on Hanamakis shoulders, hugging Matsukawa from above and the next is Iwaizumi grabbing Oikawa at his collar and pulling him down into a _furious_ kiss, both of them sweat-soaked. 

The stories are mainly in chronological order, but a few times their narrator breaks his pattern.

One of these instances, that stays in Daichi’s memory, is a series of pictures titled: _Iwaizumi and animals_.

It features the green-eyed in a staring contest with a horse, overrun by bunnies and birds, playfully wrestling with a dog twice as heavy as him and last but not least, about college age, as a living butterfly tree at the botanical garden. Oddly enough Daichi is sure that he has never seen the man _happier_ than in that photo, covered from toes to the tip of his hair in insects, a bright smile and large, fascinated eyes.

Present time Iwaizumi just _hums_ at that picture, a little remembering smirk on his face.

As Matsukawa however, clicks to the next picture, it _isn‘t_ another one of Iwaizumi but one of _Oikawa_. At the same location only from a different angle: his chin resting in his hand, head tilted just the tiniest bit, a little smile playing on his lips, cheeks rosy and the _fondest_ of all expressions in his eyes.

There is a collective „_Awww_“, running through the room.

„And that my friends, is what _love_ looks like“, Matsukawa declares gently.

At the table, Iwaizumi laces his fingers with Oikawa’s and the taler one leans against his husband, with a happy smile.

They move on, over Oikawa’s time at the national team, his dropout and first modelling job, well added by the sentence: „And while Tooru was striving on his never-ending quest to being _the most sufferable jerk in history_, Iwaizumi was having _none_ of his shit“ and a compilation of footage showing Iwaizumi asleep over piles and piles of books with all sorts of economic titles.

He ends this part with a few pictures from Iwaizumi’s graduation and a short clip from Oikawa’s first acting job.

> It shows him on the floor, covered in fake blood, one hand _dramatically_ draped over his face.
> 
> „_Iwa-Chan_, _mourn_ for me“, he laments, peaking up at the camera with his free eye.
> 
> Iwaizumi walks into the picture, looking down at his boyfriend, then nudging him with his foot.
> 
> „_C‘mon_, they need the set, _Shittykawa_“
> 
> „You are so _dull_! I was just _gruesomely_ murdered“, Oikawa whines.
> 
> „And that was _literally_ the only thing you did, so _move it_“, the former gruffs with another light kick.
> 
> „I am _ditching_ you Hajime! _Ko-Chan_, show me some sympathy. Be a _better_ Iwa-Chan“, Oikawa proceeds to call somewhere to the left.
> 
> „_Not a chance_“, they hear Suga call back.
> 
> Iwaizumi grumbles something and walks to where Suga seems to be.
> 
> The camera is now shaking slightly with laughter and Oikawa turns back to it.
> 
> „Oh _shut it,_ Issei. I want to see _you_ pull a flawless murder in the first take!“, he shouts and the camera shakes harder.
> 
> Then it straightens again and they can see Iwaizumi walk back into the picture, just long enough, before he ditches a bucket of water over Oikawa and gets him _shrieking_.
> 
> There is a _lot_ of shaking and the image blurs as Matsukawa gets his hand in front of the lens, then the video cuts to what Daichi recognizes as one of the yards at the university. First Suga is in the focus, holding a clipboard and he smiles into the camera, then points to his right, a finger in front of his lips.
> 
> The camera turns and now shows Oikawa sitting on a park bench, a towel draped over his wet shoulders and Iwaizumi kneeling in front of him, _patiently_ swiping fake blood of his face with another one, then lovingly brushing a loose strand of hair back behind his partners ear.

„And the rest - is _history_“, Matsukawa says, solemnly.

He doesn‘t take much longer. Provides a little compilation of Oikawa’s most hilarious roles and actions on set and behind the scenes material of the only movie in which Iwaizumi had gotten himself bullied into taking a leading role.

Daichi can only _vaguely_ remember having seen it on TV a year or two ago. But he remembers the scene in which Oikawa, as a young art collector in the 1940s, is, for some _ludicrous_ reason, challenged to a race on a car track.

He, however, had not remembered _Iwaizumi_ to be his rivalling driver and to his further astonishment, Matsukawa feeds him _one more_ piece of information.

„And a little _lesser_ _known_, but nonetheless _true_, fact: Oikawa Tooru _does_ have a license, but he prefers to be driven around and so the _one and only race car double_ is _no other_ than our _Sugawara Koshi_“, he informs them and Daichi's eyes turn large.

The next picture shows Suga and Oikawa in identical race outfits in front of the car in question.

Daichi makes a note to himself to rewatch that one _asap!_

Matsukawa tells two more stories with amusing visual aids, then he leans against the desk again and makes a little pause.

„Well, I think that was enough about the past and by now you must be tired of me talking and talking and _honestly_ I need something to drink, _really_ badly so...“, he muses and a few people chuckle.

Daichi uses the chance to check his wristwatch. He had assumed about 40 Minutes to have passed. Discovering that in fact, it had been a solid _hour and a half_, does shock him. 

„...while we are having a little break to reflect on the passage of time. I want _you two_“, and he gestures at Iwaizumi and Oikawa. „To go _deep_ within yourselves for I am saying this much: I did not take the time to collect all this information for _nothing_!“

Oikawa _chuckles_ and says something to Iwaizumi, but not before covering up both their microphones.

Given that and the fact that Iwaizumi _smacks_ him, the thought of process there is rather obvious and at least the entire volleyball group _groans_ loudly.

„_Get a room_“, Kuro shouts from his seat.

„What did you think I _just_ suggested?“, Oikawa calls back.

„_Maki_, how fast can I get a divorce“, Iwaizumi asks, as he leans forward, eyes fixating his friend.

„This information is _classified_, as I was contracted _and paid_ to be on Oikawa’s side for the entire duration of this party“, Hanamaki informs him in the most business way possible.

„Suga, smack him _please_“, Iwaizumi asks. „You are closer“

And Sugawara leans past the scary woman to happily do just that.

With a glass of water in hand and a pleased smirk on his face, Matsukawa watches the scene unfold and just before it can get a little _too_ violent, he clears his throat.

„As much as I enjoy this, we _do_ have an agenda. Thankfully, you two are already in war mode without my assistance, so our game can begin!“, he declares.

„I was so friendly to bring back _a lot_ of trivial information into your brains, so now, I want you to put it to good use. The rules are _simple_: I am going to ask you a question about the other and if you answer _correctly, _ you get a point. You have three jokers: The _Host-Joker_, where _I_ give you a hint, the _Best-Man-Joker_ where _Suga_ or _Maki_ can answer for you and the _Public-Embarrassment-Joker_ where you can ask any _other_ person present“, Matsukawa counts down, then he looks at the two husbands. „Any questions?“

„What does the winner get?“, Oikawa asks immediately, competitive streak _gleaming_ in his eyes.

„_To be on top_!?“, Yahaba loudly suggests from the crowd and the volleyball crew bursts into giggles.

„_No_. The winner gets _nothing_“, Matsukawa clarifies with a smirk. More than enough of an indication that the price is being exempt from punishment.

„Can I just _leave_?“, Iwaizumi asks and gets a loud: „_NO_“, from the entire crowd.

Oikawa chuckles and gives him a chaste kiss to the cheek.

Matsukawa gets out a series of small cards and looks at the first one.

„We‘ll start simple. _Iwaizumi_....“

And Daichi's eyeballs pop out._ If that is simple, what the hell is hard?_

But it takes only a few questions for him to learn something: Apparently Iwaizumi and Oikawa can name _the most obscure details_ about one another. Like how many birthmarks Iwaizumi has, what his favourite socks are and how long he takes to use one bottle of shampoo; or wich of Oikawa’s fingers is the most sensitive, how does he tie his shoes and exactly how long one of his steps is. But they are _lost_ at _the most mundane_ questions, like what kind of sandwich the other likes best or what their favourite colour is.

There is a collective _groan_ and Oikawa throws his hands up in exasperation facing that last one.

„The hell do I know. _Blue_?“

„_Lavender_“, Iwaizumi informs him deadpan.

„_Ouch_“, Matsukawa snickers into his hand and marks down something on his scorecard. Daichi is certain he has never seen the, usually so quiet, man this _vivid_ and in all honestly it is starting to creep him out a little.

But Daichi‘s favourite question is: '_What kind of facial cream does Oikawa use the most'_

Iwaizumi’s head plops down onto the table and over the microphone, everyone can hear his very passionate: „_Fuck_“

"_Hajime_!“, his mother calls from the family table, slightly choked.

"Ah _shu_, I know what it _looks_ like, _damn it_“, Iwaizumi sits back up, pinching the bridge of his nose. „It’s _this_ _red tube_, with the white square on it. Looks the exact same as my toothpaste...“

"_Hold on_ a second, is _that_ why it‘s always empty?“, Oikawa chimes in, disbelieve painted on his face.

"Don‘t put your stuff on my side of the sink, _Shittykawa_! You _know_ I am not the most capable when I just woke up!“, Iwaizumi barks.

"_Iwa-Chan_, please tell me you are not serious“

"Do you think, I _like_ brushing my teeth with aloe vera?“

Oikawa lets out a small wail and Iwaizumi shakes his head.

"Okay, I have_ no idea_ what brand it is. I’m calling the public joker: _Wakatoshi_ you are up!“, he calls and Oikawa’s jaws _drop_.

"Why _him_?“

"Why _me_?“, Ushijima ads.

"_Because_ you are the only one who _listens_ to him when he talks about that kind of stuff“, Iwaizumi explains a little desperate.

"Maki, how fast can I get a divorce?“, now it‘s Oikawa’s turn to ask, but Hanamaki doesn‘t get to answer, because Ushijima stands up and straightens his tie.

"As far, as I am informed, it is the _Ukiyo No.6 Nigatsu midori_“, he declares in the same tone as if he would be swearing an oath on the flag and his live.

Then he sits back down.

For a moment there is silence, then it is Oikawa who’s head comes down onto the table with a loud groan.

"I assume that means, Ushijima stands correct“, Matsukawa grins and makes another mark.

"_I hate my life_“, is all they get from Oikawa.

Iwaizumi grins, a little _too_ pleased with his husbands despair and gives his partner in crime an enthusiastic thumbs up.

The staple of cards gets thinner and thinner and the questions and the little squabbles over the right answers more and more _hilarious_.

By the time Matsukawa puts down the last one and turns to count out his scorecard, Iwaizumi has Oikawa in a headlock and they both look at their friend, like hounds expecting fresh meat.

"Who won?“, Oikawa huffs out.

"_Just_ a second... and... _wow_“, Matsukawa does a second count just to be sure. "With a _single_ point difference: _Iwaizumi_!“

Their winner throws his hands up into the air with a little: „_Woohoo_“, releasing his husband who looks a little sour.

Sour changes to outright _horrified_ as Matsukawa leans over and whispers his punishment to him, microphone covered.

"_No_“, Oikawa breathes. "Matsun _Please_! _Issei_! I will do _anything_! Anything else, but you _can‘t_ make me do that!“

But Matsukawa is relentless and Iwaizumi is biting down on his fist hard to stifle his laughter.

And so, with the most _pained_ face Daichi has ever seen, Oikawa stands up, takes the big microphone from Matsukawa, readjusts his dark red shirt and takes a deep and dramatic breath only to immediately deflate again.

"Do I _really_“, he asks, voice small and pleading.

Matsukawa nods.

Oikawa takes another deep breath, straightening up a little before he looks at the crowd and grits out: "_I should have come to Shiratorizawa_“

For a single second, there is silence, then the most _obscure_ scene Daichi has seen so far plays out right in front of him, as _governor of state Ushijima Wakatoshi_ jumps to his feet, _slams_ his hand down on the table and yells: "I _told_ you!“

Now the forcibly stifled laughter grows and Daichi sees the entire volleyball team bite down on something and/or hide their faces.

Iwaizumi at this point is one step away from straight out _choking_ on his fist as hard as he is biting down by now.

Ushijima looks around, then his, in any case, stern face turns _even more_ statue-like as he asks: "You are mocking me, _aren‘t you_?“

"You are a _treasure_ Wakatoshi-Kun, a real treasure“, a man with slicked-back, bright red hair, sitting by his side, pats his back, grinning wide and gets him to sit back down.

Daichi doesn‘t understand what is going on and he doesn‘t seem like the only one, so he assumes that it must be a volleyball inside joke.

Oikawa by now has turned to hide in Iwaizumi’s chest, who gently rubs circles into his back, smile still threatening to tear his face in half.

„What would you have done if _I_ had won?“, Oikawa wails.

"To be honest I have _nothing_. It never occurred to me that Iwaizumi would _loose_. I was just surprised that the margin was _this_ narrow“, Matsukawa says, patting his friends back, before he looks up: "_Suga_, did you get that?“

Instead of answering Sugawara lifts his thumb and now Daichi can see, he has his phone out.

"You are _all_ disowned, you traitorous bunch!“, Oikawa declares, still sulky, but all he gets is more laughter and Iwaizumi grabbing him softly by the chin.

"I am glad you _didn‘t_, you know“, he grins, then he gives him a sweet kiss and Daichi can see Oikawa relax into his touch instantly.

They get a loud whistle from Bokuto and applause from everyone else.

Matsukawa lets them have this moment and leans against the stand, exchanging a few words with the DJ.

Daichi notices movement behind them. Three of the technicians roll in a _grand piano_ and bring two chairs, as well as an ominous case.

When the applause fades Matsukawa takes his microphone from the table and announces: "_Nice tongue work_“, resulting in another round of laughter and applause.

"And I think we can all agree, that what we need now, is a little _music_. So without further ado, I want you to relax and enjoy“, he says and now there is a little excited whisper among some of the guests.

Daichi falters from his spot in the shadow of one of the arches when he realizes it is _Suga and Yaku_, now walking up to where the instruments have been positioned.

The former opens the case and gets out what looks to be a contrabass.

"So, erm. _Hello_ first of all“, Suga laughs into the microphone he is handed and leans the instrument against his shoulder. 

"Thank you all for coming today. It has been a _little_, since I last played like this and it turns out I got a bit _rusty_“, he chuckles nervously. "So I allowed myself a little help from a dear friend, Y_aku Morisuke of the City Orchestra_!“

Suga nods at him, Yaku bows, then he takes seat at the piano.

"I decided to name this piece '_The Oak Tree_‘ and, well, _they_ know why“, he goes on and earns a soft chuckle from Iwaizumi.

With a deep breath, Suga clicks the microphone into its poll and exchanges a look with Yaku. The room turns so silent, Daichi can hear his own pulse drumming in his ears.

The shorter plays the first note, the second and with the third Suga runs his bow over the strings and lets the tone ring, mix into the light piano rhythm.

Then he picks up his finger work, keeping the bow movements generous and languid.

The music drifts through the room, takes Daichi and lets him afloat.

Suga picks up his speed, waves quicker sequences into the melody, tapping his foot along on the ground, eyelids half closed, focused on his fingers.

It feels like being _washed over the edge of a waterfall_, falling, but engulfed in the soft mist and Daichi can somehow _see_ the tree grow in his mind, as Suga returns to his long tones and now _Yaku_ is the one lacing quick accords into it.

He can see the little leaves bloom on a young tree, somewhere in a field of _endless_ grass, he can hear _the birds_ build their nests, can feel the branches thicken.

And with a_ single note,_ all the different tones flow into one as Yaku and Suga both start to play at the same speed, conveying _growth_, _energy_ and a _never-fading root_, that will keep the tree in its spot, no matter the storm, no matter the rain. No matter how many branches _break_ and how many leaves _wither_, the tree will always _be_ there.

Daichi watches Sugawara play, is captured by the grace in his movements, the gentle concentration on his face, and the flow of silver hair, when he dips his head to the side, giving himself away to his own play. Let‘s himself be taken away, lulled by the man's soft swaying, whenever Suga leans into an especially powerful stroke of his bow.

The piece gets more and more intense, branches spread across the sky, leaves collect the rain and brush against each other in the wind, _singing a song of their own._

They let it cling out with powerful, yet soft strides and Yaku laces a very last reprise of his initial, higher and quicker notes of _youth and growth_ into Suga's deep echo of an _ancient soul and never wavering heart_.

The last key fades and Suga snaps his hand _abruptly_ over his strings, silencing the last, mournful tone and leaves them to the final two piano notes and then to the gaping silence.

Applause washes through the large winter garden and Suga and Yaku both bow.

The silver-haired says something to his partner, but the shorter man shakes his head and reaches over to pat his shoulder.

Suga's smile is warm and his cheeks laced with a little bit of pink.

Matsukawa waits until the clapping as faded out before he speaks: "What a _wonder_“, before encouraging another round of applause.

"You know“, he continues as soon as he has relative attention again. „As someone who has known _both_ Oikawa and Iwaizumi for _quite_ a few years now, I think that me, and my hard-working _sidekicks_“, he makes a noble gesture towards Hanamaki and Sugawara, "know them both quite _well_“

There is some affirmative murmuring and Matsukawa smiles.

"But _even we_, are still entitled to the joy of learning new things about them every day. And so, in the wake of planning this happening, we had to uncover something _stunning_“, he makes a dramatic pause. "There may be a few present here that _already_ know this, but are you aware that, whenever you see Oikawa dancing in movies, it is _actually_ a mashup of doubles and very strategic short shots!?“

A little bit of curious whispering.

"It is true. Because while he has _many_ talents, _standard dance_ is _not_ one of them and as it turns out: Iwaizumi is _just_ as bad at it, as Oikawa is!“, Matsukawa announces and with a little hum, he continues: "But another thing they have in common is, that they _never give up, even _when they should. And so I think we have managed to transfer a little bit of our musical talents, paired it with their never wavering willpower and a not insignificant amount of _sweat, blood and tears_ and managed to get a decent result. _Ladies and Gentlemen_, please give it up, and cut them some slack!“

And with a generous wave of his hand, he directs the attention to a comfortable space that has been cleared, while they have all been enthralled by his show.

Daichi realizes that the buffet and the standing tables have been moved to the back of the venue to make way for a generous _dancing space_. He had been so focussed on Suga, he didn‘t notice at all.

Iwaizumi takes Oikawa’s hand and they walk over, whispering something to one another. Since Daichi can‘t hear it, he assumes they have already detached their microphones.

Suga and Yaku take position again, and with a quiet count in from Suga, they play again.

This though, Daichi realizes quickly, is a very _simple_ waltz.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa keep it basic, just moving along to the music.

When it fades out, Iwaizumi pulls his husband down into another kiss.

They get another applause and bow.

"Now, that wasn‘t so bad, _was it_. I only counted three mistakes and...“

"..._four_“, Hanamaki chimes in.

Matsukawa halts, thinks, then shrugs. "Depends if you define _that_ as a mistake, but all in all it wasn‘t _as horrible_ as I expected it to go“, he grins, with a shiteating face and Iwaizumi whacks him in the ribs.

"You made the mistake of getting me out of my chair, so _be careful_ Matsun“, he dares him to the general amusement.

"_Why_, that was a _compliment_“, Matsukawa winces.

Oikawa now leans into his microphone and asks, with raised eyebrows: „Are we gonna get a _real_ dance too?“

Daichi doesn‘t know what that means but he notices Matsukawa, Suga and Hanamaki exchange a series of _looks_.

"_At least_ tell me what“, Suga says loudly, gently setting his instrument back into the case and draping his jacket over the chair.

Then he hugs Yaku and thanks him.

"You‘ll like it, I _promise_“, Matsukawa informs him, while Oikawa drags Iwaizumi back to their seats to sinks down on his husband's lap, with a _very_ pleased face.

The green-eyed just sighs, delighted and wraps an arm around him.

Matsukawa too retreats from the dance floor while Hanamaki whispers something into Suga's ear.

"As some might now, while Iwaizumi and Oikawa are as musically _incompetent_ as humanly possible _the rest_ of us takes great joy in the moving arts and so it is my _honour_ as a neutral party tonight, to present you the best _men_ and _dancers,_ I have the fortune of knowing.

He returns to his spot by the DJ, who is now getting to work.

As the first notes hit, it becomes clear, that they are _not_ going to _waltz_ and _neither_ is it classical music.

It is a quick _upbeat_ melody and Hanamaki starts right into it, by giving Suga a strong twirl.

They need less than a few steps to find into the quick, _rock‘n‘roll_ music.

And they are _not_ holding back.

Daichi used to standard dance back in the day, but he was always just that. _Standard_.

Suga and Maki are putting things to a new level and now he understands what Oikawa meant by _real_ dance.

He has difficulties following their feet, so fast are they tapping in rhythm to the song.

Hanamaki takes a strong lead, moving Suga from one figure and twist through the next and the other follows him _without_ flaw.

And what takes Daichi aback the most: They are casually talking the _entire time_, not even breaking a sweat, as if they do nothing else all day long.

_They fit_, he thinks. _Like two pieces of a puzzle_.

Maki twists Suga into a position, arms slung over his hips, back to chest, then opens up into a wide swing and back into a tight gyration, before letting go of his hands and Suga turns on his own, comes to a perfect halt, snug at the other's chest and without missing a single beat, they pick up the footwork again, still not touching one another, as if they are taking a little _breather_.

Hanamaki says something to Suga and he laughs soundly, then takes his partner's hand again and they get going once more to the point where the strawberry blonde lifts his partner up into the air like he weighs _nothing_.

As the song climaxes Daichi's head is spinning from trying to understand their pattern. _Rock‘n‘Roll_ has _never_ been his strong side, but he is certain they are mixing it with _a lot of Disco-Fox and Cha-Cha_ elements.

Maybe it is also turning a little from watching Sugas flawless and so, _so_, **so** flexible figure. Following the stretch of his muscles and slender frame, the _bounce_ of his soft bangs and the _sparks_ flying from his eyes.

He is _powerful_, but in such a _different_ way than from when he had been playing.

Hanamaki isn‘t any less impressive.

And still casual enough, that, when the song ends, he dips Suga so _low_, his hair is almost touching the floor and he has_ at least_ a 75-degree ankle. And then he just holds him there and the last tones fade out.

At least they are both panting a little, as Maki pulls his partner up and gives him a last twirl. Then they let go and bow for a crowd going _crazy_.

Matsukawa finishes his job, declares the dance floor open and tells everyone to have a great night, then he sets down the microphone and the room turns back into movement and chatter, but not before granting him a loud round of cheering for his presentation.

"_Holy shit_“, Daichi jumps, when Yui talks right next to him. When did _she_ get here?

"_Yeah_“, is all he manages as he‘s watching how Hanamaki leads Suga over to the main table, where they both hug first Oikawa, then Iwaizumi until Matsukawa joins in and it turns into a very delighted group huddle.

Yui pats him on the shoulder with a gentle sigh and Daichi suddenly feels _very_ exposed and vulnerable.

*******

Suga is pressured into playing two more times, in between being handed from one dance partner to another, before _Kuro_ of all people decides to save him.

But _not_ before getting a dance of his own.

He offers Suga his arm and moves him off the floor, closer to food.

It is well beyond midnight by now and he is _starving_. _Again_.

Also a little _dizzy_ by now, from all the spinning.

With a _sigh_ he wedges himself in between Bokuto and Yahaba and starts stealing leftover food and baguettes from everywhere he can reach.

"You looking for _this_?“, Iwaizumi asks from behind them, pulling an _entire cheese and ham plate including grapes_ from somewhere and Suga gasps.

"If my legs _weren‘t_ so weak right now, Oikawa _wouldn‘t_ kill me and I _didn‘t know _you_ aren‘t into it_, I‘d get up and _kiss_ you!“, he tells his friend and takes the plate, outright _hissing_ at Bokuto, who tries to snack a grape.

Iwaizumi laughs, then walks around the table and drops into the empty space next to Yaku.

"I have good news for you then because it was actually _Matsun_ who put it to the side“, he tells him, chin resting in his hand.

"Where did you leave your _worse half_?“, Kuro leans forward, way faster than his friend and is _actually_ able to steal a block of cheese from Suga, who is momentarily distracted by taking a piece of bread.

He resists the urge to throw a glass at him just _barely_, because _of course_ now he has to feed Bokuto too and since he is _way too nice,_ he allows Yahaba and Watari to take a piece as well.

"Busy with his mom! Oh, and by the way, _Watari_, you are getting a testimonial mention! That was the_ best idea ever!_“, Iwaizumi pats their libero on the back and the smaller one grins like the devil himself.

"Sure, but _no money in the world_ could have bought you Ushijima’s reaction“, he laughs and there is nothing to disagree with here.

"I‘ll put the video in the _Volley&Friends_ chat tomorrow“, Suga tells them in between grapes and ham.

He gets _hysterical_ faces.

"_Koshi_, you _can‘t_ wait that long, Oikawa is gonna move _heaven_ and....“, Kuro starts with open jaws but Suga shushes him by simply _dunking_ a grape into his mouth and while their bedhead is choking on it, he informs them:

"I _know_! What do you take me for? I already made _three_ safety backups into different clouds! I just want to put together a little opening. Maybe music. To make it _classy_ you know“

Kenma shows mercy and whacks Kuro on the back before he can suffocate entirely and the later croaks out: "_Point taken_“

"And now _silence_ you _goon_, I already wasted enough food on you. Do not anger me _further_“, Suga recites, head high, arms protectively wrapped around the plate.

"_How_ do you put up with that glutton?“, Akashi asks Iwaizumi, with rather serious curiosity.

"Oh he‘s got _nothing_ on Maki!“, is all the answer he gets.

"Aw _Hajime_, thank you so much for the compliment, your butt looks great _too_“, coos a voice from behind them and when Suga dips a little to the side, to look past all his_ tall-ass_ friends he can spot their nymphomaniac in question, balancing a tablet of shots and Matsun with two bottles of whiskey.

"_No_“, is all they get from Iwaizumi.

"Oh _come on_, it‘s almost one. If we don‘t get started now, _when then_?“, Hanamaki rolls his eyes.

"How about _never_?“, the other suggests coldly. "I have better things to do than get shitfaced _at my own wedding_!“

"_Very_ honourable Iwaizumi, Oikawa has a great lot to learn from you“, they all jump at Ushijima talking _right_ behind them.

How does a man _so tall_ move _this_ quiet? Suga is regularly _amazed_ by how delicate, for his size, the man is in his actions.

"Sugawara, I was hoping for a word“

He looks down at his cheese and _sighs_, then he turns, smiles: "Can you give me another minute?“

Ushijima nods with a little "_Of course_“, and Suga takes a gavel. He pokes roundabout the _entire plate_ onto it and shoves the thing into his mouth. It barely fits but Suga has learned to _stretch_ his jaw.

"Oh. _My_. **Goodness**“, Akashi whispers, a little _horrified_ as he squeezes in a piece of ham, one slice of baguette and then fills the rest of space with grapes.

"His _blowjobs_ are _am_...“, Hanamaki starts, not without pride, but Matsun has the grace to put a hand over his mouth before he can finish _that_ sentence.

Suga needs a little _more_ than a minute to chew it all and wash down with half a glass of red wine.

"Okay, _good to go_!“, he hums and more than one pair of wide eyes follow him, as Wakatoshi offers out his arm and Suga hooks himself under.

The song starting right now is a little quicker Walz and Ushijima has a firm lead. He abstains from complicated figures and his steps and posture are _very_ exact - it makes him a comfortable dance partner.

Suga is almost _relaxed_, because he does not have to do anything for once. The other is directing him securely and he simply _follows_.

"My pardons, that I interrupted you. I did not intend to be rude, but I would like to discuss this with you before the official request“, Wakatoshi begins and Suga hums, telling him to continue.

"This is not yet to be public information but the prime minister will be resigning soon - and as you may know, he is a great friend of _art_ and _gardening_. I thought, given your _expertise_ and resources, you could help me find an appropriate gift. I believe you are acquainted“

Suga furrows his brows. _Acquainted_ is a bit of a long shot. He has met the man a few times at the annual _GALA_. They had exchanged a handful of sentences, _mainly_ about Suga‘s work, since they had first met when he had won an award by the ministry of culture for their exhibition '_The Form of Shapes_‘ and back then the prime minister had only just been announced minister of culture.

He has a _vague_ idea of what kind of person he was, but that was about it.

"I will look at my catalogue, see if I can find something that might fit. If you can supply me _a few more_ preferences, I think I can make a nice selection and take them off the public lists until you can look at them“, he decides then - it is not like this is _uncommon_.

Wakatoshi has often sought out his help, when choosing new art to decorate city hall, sculptures for public spaces or his office and in return he had pulled a few levers to brighten up the galleries budget.

"I thank you“, comes the solemn reply and Suga chuckles. "No need to"

The song ends only a little later and Wakatoshi bows for him. "For _the dance_ as well. I expect your guidance, Sugawara“

Then he strides off and Suga sighs, with a smile on his lips.

"Consulting with the enemy, _are we_?“, someone hisses into his ear and he can feel hot breath down his neck.

"Aw, _Tooru_, how _sweet_ of you to ask me for a dance“, Suga coos, honey-sweet and where the man stood mere _seconds_ ago, only an Oikawa shaped _dust cloud_ remains.

Suga smiles and shakes his head.

He makes his way off the dance floor and manages to _narrowly_ avoid two more dances.

His feet _hurt_ by now and in retrospect, eating all that cheese in one go was not _such_ a good idea after all.

He needs a little air for _himself_.

Throwing a last glance over his shoulder he manages to whisk off into the trees unseen and makes his way.

He finds the path like second nature and starts to walk until his shoes hit gravel and he spots a secluded bench.

With a _sigh,_ he plops down and looks up, at the half-open dome and shivers slightly.

At the party, with the heaters and all the people, one could almost forget it was the _middle of winter_. But out here, at the sidelines and with the retracted roof it is actually rather _cold_.

Suga wraps his arms around himself and rubbles at his shoulders, then he closes his eyes, stretches out his feet and leans his head back, enjoys the breeze on his face and the starlight shining from above.

"Hey“, Sugas heart skips and he looks up. _Daichi_.

The other is standing at the intersection, just three meters away and is holding a vase in his arms.

"Are you _okay_?“, he asks, brows furrowed in concern.

Suga blinks at him. "_Yeah_, just needed a little air and a break from all the dancing“, he tells him truthfully.

He‘s starting to wish he‘d brought his jacket.

"Oh, I mean, you... you dance _really_ good!“, Daich clears his throat.

Suga scoots over on the bench. "Do you, _umn_, want to _sit_?“, he asks and the other looks down at his flowers, brows drawing together in that _cute_ kind of way.

For a moment he thinks, Daichi will leave but then he puts the vase down and hesitantly walks over. But he doesn‘t sit down, he stays standing in front of the bench, stepping from one foot onto the other.

"I didn‘t realize how _cold_ it is out here!“, he shivers and too rubs at his arms.

Suga laughs. 

"_Yeah_, me neither“, and he shows Daichi the goosebumps on his forearms.

"You should go back to where it‘s warm. Not that you catch a cold!“

"Oh, I‘ll be fine for a bit. I need a little _silence_“, he sighs, then realizes what he said. "I mean, not-_noise_ you know, you... it‘s _fine_, I don‘t mind _you_ talking, or _us_ talking, I was just referring to all the people and _one_ person is okay, but the umn _party_ is just a bit too much and... yeah“

Daichi grins and turns back to where they hear the muffled voices and music.

"I get that“, and then he actually sits down, a bit _shy_ at first but Suga pats the spot next to him once more and he lets himself sink down.

Suga breathes out in relief, then he looks over at the other. "What are you still doing here?“, he asks, before hastily adding, _again_!, "You know here _in general_, not _right here_, I mean the _party_, I _mean_, you could already go home, not like I _want_ you to go home, just that tomorrow you have to take everything down and you will be _exhausted_ if you stay too late, which _of course_ is entirely _your_ decision, I _just_... I should _shut up_ now“, he finishes weakly and bright red, no longer from the cold alone.

What the hell is _wrong_ with him today? _Was it stress_? Was it overall exhaustion or was he just a goddamn _idiot_?

Daichi chuckles again and sighs. "Yeah, I _know_. Yui already went but I thought I could take the large vases from the reception with me, to lighten to load tomorrow“, then he yawns.

"Do... do you want me to _help_ you?“, Suga asks carefully.

But Daichi squares his shoulders and scratches his neck. "_No, _I‘m fine, _yeah_, fine. I don‘t want your clothes to get dirty or so and this is the last one anyway, so, _yeah_, I‘m fine“

"_Daichi_, there is something called a _washing machine_“, Suga raises his eyebrow and the other laughs a little embarrassed.

"I don‘t own clothes _that fancy_, but I am _still_ pretty sure you are _not_ supposed to put them into a regular washing machine“

Suga sighs, because: Okay, _point taken_.

"Are you sure?“, he asks. "About the _help_, not the washing“

"_Yeah_, but thanks anyway. Will... you be here tomorrow?“, Daichi says these words, head craned back, looking into the sky.

The trees cast shadows over the bench, that reflects in his eyes and Suga has to tear away his own with force, concentrating on the gravel by his shoes. _That pebble looks very nice!_

"I think so. I will come late though, probably going to stay until the very end and _heaven knows_ when _that_ will be“, he chuckles.

"_Oh_, okay, _yeah_, sounds... umn _logical_“, Daichi is fidgeting with his hands.

Suga bites his lip. His head is as empty as the bottles in the trash bin.

"I _erm_, I finished the book. It was really good!”, the other looks over at him, still massaging his knuckles. "I didn’t really thank you until now, I know it's a little late but... so _yeah_… _thank you_ also for… for _thinking_ of me”

Suga feels the blood creep up his neck and cheeks. "No, _don’t_. I am just glad you liked it. I wasn’t _sure_ but it was my best pick so, _yeah_, no problem - it was your _birthday_ after all”, he smiles.

Daichi scratches his neck some more. “It was _a little_ chewy at a certain point but still _good_!”, he admits and Suga laughs fondly. _Caught_!

“I’ll take that into account next time”, he smirks softly and Daichi chuckles.

“So there is going to be a _next time_?”

“I sure hope you don’t ditch us _Flowers Guy_. Although if you have enough if the shitheads already, I can _totally_ understand”, he playfully bumps his elbow.

Now Daichi's laugh is a little louder, bellowing. “I already lost enough of my hair too you, I _can’t_ let that have been for nothing”, he bumps back and Suga grins as he leans a little against his shoulder.

And so they just sit. Awkward but _peaceful_.

He doesn‘t check his clock so he has no idea how much time has passed, when Daichi suddenly _jumps_ to his feet and looks down at him. "I _umn_, really should go. You are _right_, I‘ll need all the sleep I can get so umn, _yeah_, see you tomorrow!“ and he takes his pot and walks down the pathway. Well, it‘s more _running_ than walking and Suga sighs.

Without Daichi he is suddenly _very cold_ again and just that moment he realizes he must have_ pressed up_ against the others side in an instinctive search for warmth. Hot blood rises into his cheeks and he rubbles at his chilly forearms, to distract himself from the remnant feeling of _Daichi's body heat_. He gets up and returns to the party, a little _slower_ than the other tough.

When he rejoins the table, the seating has shifted and Suga finds a place between Matsun and Watari. Akaashi seems to have gone take some more pictures

"Everything alright?“, the soft murmur is audible for Suga only and a hand is brushing against his thigh.

He nods and smiles up at the hanging eyes. "Just needed some air“, he smiles.

"Alright now that Suga is _back_...“, Hanamaki begins, giddily.

"Still a _big_ nope!“, and Iwaizumi pulls the bottle out of his hands.

They need exactly _ten minutes_ and _Oikawa_ joining them to break his will.

"_This_...“, Kuro lulls, "Is _no_ fun!“, and he hiccups, glancing over the row of empty shot glasses, then looks up at Suga.

"_Told ya_“, Hanamaki slurs and throws his arm over the others shoulder.

"You say that _every time_ we go out to the club, how are you _still_ surprised?“, Suga asks with an irritated laugh.

"I _don‘t know_ man! I just, _you know_, keep thinking it‘s gotta happen _eventually_“, Kuro seems very sad at the prospect it will not. _Ever_.

Because Suga does, _thank all heavens_, not get drunk. Sure, he gets _tipsy_, then he gets _touchy_ and sometimes he gets a little _murderous_, but he never gets _drunk_ to the point he is unable to walk or talk or perform _any task_ he can do sober.

Maybe except for _juggling_.

Next to them, Oikawa sighs. He too has not gotten started yet, but is _dangerously_ close to phase one drunkenness. Suga is giving him two more zips out of the red wine.

Iwaizumi on the other hand is a little _further_ off the shore already. He drank a bit too much right at the start, sulking over being pressured into the game.

Suga finds quite the number of people have left while he took his little breather and the party is calming down now.

It is quarter past two already and most of the '_official_‘ guests have said their goodbyes by now. 

"Tooru“, he looks over his shoulder to find Oikawa's mother looking down at their merry round. "We‘ll be going then - and _Hajime_, your father was looking for you“

Oikawa and Iwaizumi excuse themselves to hug their families a good night and accompany them down to their taxi.

Suga sighs a little sleepy and stretches his arms over his head.

He can feel Matsun smooth his hand around his hip and wraps an arm over his shoulder in return, adjusting his seat, so he can lean against his brother more comfortably.

"_Weakness disgusts me_!“, Hanamaki hisses with a wrinkle of his nose.

"_Hey_!“, Kuro snaps, gently petting Kenma, who has already fallen asleep in his lap.

"Come on, we were up at like... _six_ today“, Issei shoots back.

"And _I_ had to spend all morning with Oikawa chickening out -_ don‘t try me bitch_!“

Suga grins and reaches over for one of the last grapes.

"Trust me - Iwaizumi was _not_ better“

"Wanna bet?“

"_Alright,_ how many times did you have to keep Oikawa from _bolting_?“

"_Twice_, but only because he was too busy _measuring out his eyebrows_, a hundred percent convinced they were not _exactly_ even. I learned about sixty new synonyms for _fuzzy_ and _hideous_ today. And for _murder_, but those I looked up by myself“

"I had to put Zumi _on a leash_ \- like _literally_. He tried to hide from me _eight_ times. So I got leftover cable ties and strapped him to a chair. He _still_ tried to bolt but it was _infinitely_ easier fining him _attached to an armchair_.“

"_Uh_“, Kuro leans forward. „That is a _narrow_ race“

"_Please_ \- Oikawa measuring his eyebrows is _everyday stuf_f“, Yahaba dismisses. „That is like panic level _3_ out of 10“

"What is _10_ out of 10?“, Bokuto leans his head to the side. „Is it when he stands _really_ still and just glares at you, like _super_ intense?“

"No, that's an _8_. A 10 is when he starts to climb things, like a cat“, Suga thinks out loud.

"I thought 10 was when he starts to speak _Greek_?“, Matsun looks like is thinking very hard about it.

"Oikawa speaks _Greek_?“, Akashi raises his eyebrows.

"We _think_ it‘s Greek. At least that is what _Google Translate_ says, so _that_ or he‘s possessed, which is also _very well_ possible“, Hanamaki admits.

"_Right_, I totally forgot about it, okay so, an _8_ is when he _glares_, _9_ is _climbing_ things and when he starts to speak in _tongues_, you have a _10_ and better draw a circle around him, just to be on the safe side“, Suga counts down on his fingers.

"If you want to see a 10 in action make him face off and lose against Ushijima _five years in a row_ or tell him to pick between '_Star Wars'_ and '_Star Trek'_“, Watari offers.

"I am _deeply_ insulted Shinji-Kun! Why does everyone think it has to be one of _these_ two, _just_ because they are the _popular choice_. They are _overrated_ and deeply flawed. Make me choose between '_Firefly'_ and '_The Hitchhiker‘s Guide to the Galaxy'_ and _then_ we’ll talk!“, Oikawa huffs right behind them and rolls his eyes dramatically.

"_Okay_, so which one?“, Kuro has a shiteating grin on his face.

"What?“

"'_Firefly'_ or '_Hitchhiker‘s Guide'_?“

And Oikawa stands very still. He fixes Kuro with unblinking eyes. Suga knows he is _just_ thinking. _Overthinking,_ to be exact and his brain probably had a short circuit the moment it had processed the question, but it is _still_ creeping him out.

Iwaizumi waves his hand in front of his husbands face, but no reaction. He is still as marble.

"Okay _good_, you broke him! I _do not have the strength_ for that _five-hour monologue_ on space and alien shows“, he sighs and takes seat.

"Are we, _um_, gonna leave him like that?“, Saru dares to ask.

Iwaizumi just shrugs. „_Ah,_ he‘ll snap out of it _eventually_, maybe _today_, maybe _tomorrow_, maybe _next week_. Don‘t _know_, don‘t _care_, I like the silence, _next topic_“

Suga turns his face into Matsuns chest to stifle his laughter.

Kenma stirs.

"He doesn‘t have much stamina, _does he_?“, Reon asks curiously.

Kuro just shrugs: "Depends _for what_. He once played _Dark Souls_ for four days and nights _straight_, but _human interaction_.... _nah_. I think it bores him.“

He is not wrong. Kenma is quite the nice and interesting chat, _as long_ as you move in his field of interest. If you _don‘t_, you lose him faster than a piece of soap in the shower.

Oikawa moves.

In trance he wedges himself between Watari and Bokuto, who _hastily_ retreats, so that he is sitting right in front of Kuro.

He still has not blinked _once_, as he reaches for a dropped piece of cheese and starts pushing it around in little circles, mumbling something under his breath.

"I am... _not sure_ that is _Greek_“, Reon furrows his brows and listens closely.

"I honestly don‘t _care_, but he is starting to piss me off. Suga could you?“, Iwaizumi grants himself another shot and fills one for Oikawa.

Suga sighs, detaches himself from Issei and leans across the table.

He puts one hand on either side of his friends ears and snaps both simultaneously, then left, right, left, left and both again.

Oikawa _flinches_, blinks and whispers: "I _can‘t_. I can‘t, too _good_... _both_ too good... would have to narrow the aspects, but I _can‘t_, _how could I_“, muffled through his thumbs as he starts to nibble on his flesh, looking at the cheese like it could tell him the answer.

"Alright, _you_ need _this_, and _I_ need _that_“, Iwaizumi forces him to take a shot, then grabs the entire rest of the bottle for himself.

Suga pulls it from his hands before he can start to chug-a-lug it.

„_Oh_ _no_ you _won‘t_“

"_Suga_“, an actual whine but he just fixes him one of his notorious _raised eyebrows_ and Iwaizumi slinks down in his spot.

"_How about_ we say, _both_ are good, _way better_ than _Star Wars_ and _Star Trek_ combined“, he then supposes and looks at his other problem child the same way.

Oikawa thinks for a moment, then he nods enthusiastically.

"I think _Suga_ wins“, Matsun grins, as he establishes domain over the whiskey once more and fills up another round for the entire table.

"Wins _what_?“, Tooru crooks his head.

"Who had the _more difficult_ of you two to babysit today“

"Yeah, you‘re right, If I compare the eyebrow disaster to _this,_ I got pretty lucky“, Hanamaki huffs amusedly.

Oikawa turns to look at Iwaizumi. "What_ the hell_ did you do, that _I_ was the easy one?“, he asks.

The dark-haired only buries his face in his hands and muffles: "_You don‘t wanna know_!“

Oikawa blinks, surprised, then his face turns a little angry: "And I was chickening out, thinking about how _stoic, oh so unmovable Iwa-Chan_ is most certainly relaxing somewhere doing his _fucking taxes_ and playing _Mahjong_ or what not shit!“

Iwaizumi laughs, slightly hysterical.

"You _gotta_ be kidding, Suga tell him how I was trying to break that _damn_ _chair,_ because I thought Oikawa would handle this like _it was nothing_ and _I_ would be the goof!?“

Suga nods. "Thanks for throwing that stapler at me, by the way“

"_Sorry_, what do I owe you?“

"_A new stapler,_ for starters“

The whole table lets out a deep sigh. "I would like to say, I didn‘t see that coming but _unfortunately_ I had a feeling“, Yahaba shakes his head.

Kyotani by his side just _grunts_: "Like it hasn‘t been that way since, I don‘t know, _oh yeah right_: fucking _forever_!“

*******

Usually, Hanamaki is not a friend of early mornings.

This is the _one_ exception in which he will actually watch a sunrise with pleasure: _At most_ wasted, _at best_ comfortably drunk, after having been up all night and in company of his closest friends.

He sighs and leans back.

Something grunts.

"_Hey_, don‘t park your fat ass on me like that!“, and something sharp pokes his back.

With a _yip_ he retreats and seconds later the tables have turned.

Suga is pushing him back, against the other side of the sofa and pulls the same move Hanamaki had planned on him, only _way_ more successful.

And so he finds himself bedded in soft, brown cushions and silver hair tickling his nose.

Suga makes an elaborate point of leaning back against his chest with _all_ his body weight - which is not much, but _still_.

"Okay, you _win_“, he wheezes and Suga generously agrees to moving into a position they are both comfortable with.

The terrace is relatively small but there is space enough for two wide couches and a hand full of comfortable lounge chairs.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa have taken up residence in one of those, the later in his partners lap, legs dangling over the armrest. He lost his shoes somewhere along the way and Maki realizes that Suga is currently kicking his off _too_, tucking his legs under his body.

The last bottle of fine scotch they have been killing looks like liquid _fire_ in front of the deep red sky, as he gives it a little swerve and relishes the taste on his tongue.

He wraps an arm around the others middle and contently gazes over the city.

Skyfire Tower is not the _tallest_ building around here. Maybe one of the most _iconic_, but not the _tallest_, no.

Still it offers a _stunning_ view and with the first light draining buildings in gold, reflecting of cars, making them glint like _myriads of gemstones,_ he is certain there might not be a better one.

He is, _of course_, wrong.

The _even better_ sight his eyes fall on, are one Matsukawa Issei and a tiny wooden box.

He cranes his head. _Nice ass_, he thinks. Matsun lost his jacket somewhere and the vest is doing a _nice_ thing to the line of his shoulders - his _ass_ looks amazing _anyways_.

"_Matsun_“, Suga murmurs and yawns.

They are the only people left.

The rest of the _cowards_ ditched them an hour ago, Watari, Reon and Komi being the last only ten minutes in front of Yahaba and Kyotani. In the background they can already hear the catering rustle, starting to pack the first things, but the noises are faint, with the hill between them.

"Don‘t fall asleep yet“, the tall one smiles and holds forth the box.

It is made from dark redwood with a gold and bronze inlet.

Takahiro has an idea what it might be but he wants to see it first.

"Little present from my dad“, Issei explains, as he opens it and - he may be _blinded_ for human eyes are not made for _this much beauty_ at once - a row of five _Gurkha His Majesty‘s Reserve_.

"You are _kidding_ me, right?“, Iwaizumi leans his head forward to look at them.

"_Nope_ \- Kaede gave em to me earlier. It‘s late - or early, _depending_ \- already, but I thought-„

"_Yeah_! Has to be _today_!“, Iwaizumi nods, jaws still hanging a bit.

Oikawa is privy to taking the first and he smells it with a deep moan. "_My god_, I can die happy“

Hanamaki gets the fourth and he caresses the cigar lovingly.

"When was the last?“, he asks.

"_Sugas promotion_“, Matsun digs in his pockets to get the clipper and a pack of long matches out.

"Feels like it‘s been forever“, the silver-haired hums as he sits a little more upright, giving Hanamaki the space he needs to smoke _without_ setting his hair on fire.

"What - six years?“, Oikawa thinks out loud.

Maki nods. "Six _whole_ years“

"_Gentleman_“, Iwaizumi lifts his _Gurkha_ like a toast.

"One for every milestone“, Suga smiles.

"You realize once these are _lit_, you can‘t get a divorce anymore. Cigar bond lasts for a lifetime“, Maki snickers as he offers his to Issei, who cuts the tip expertly and with a satisfying '_chip_‘.

"Why, divorce counts a milestone _too_, so we get _another_“, Iwaizumi laughs and Oikawa whacks him in the chest.

"You are _the wors_t!“

"_Am I_?“, Iwaizumi leans down and whispers against his partner's lips. „We can get _remarried_, have _one more_ and then we‘ll just repeat that a couple of times“

"Uhh, _hot wedding sex, frustrated divorce sex_ and that every few years - _Hajime_ you know how to push my buttons“, and with a sly grin, Oikawa pulls him down into a deep kiss.

Hanamaki considers, making a _very_ _inappropriate_ comment, but he decides to let them have it. They _did_ just get married. Not like they haven‘t been married in all but _tax benefits_ ever since he first met them but _well_...

"The honour _is_ _yours_“, Matsun declares as he swiftly lights one of the thick matches and offers it out to the pair.

Iwaizumi takes it delicately and lights first for Oikawa, then himself before giving the fire a quick _snap_ out of his wrist, snuffing the flame.

Their master of taste lights another and leans over to Hanamaki who wriggles his eyebrows at him.

The reflection of fire in dark eyes is sending a _thrill_ down his spine. "_My place_?“, he asks lowly.

"You‘re gonna fall asleep the moment you enter the cab“, Matsun tells him and holds the flame under the tip.

Hanamaki suckles until the tobacco starts to smoke and the taste crawls up his tongue. He rolls his eyes with _relish_.

"So I need someone who makes sure I get home safe, Issei. _I am a damsel in distress_“, he sighs, batting his lashes prettily.

Matsun sighs, a smile curling on his lips and he lights Sugas cigar, then he plops down next to his brother and does the same with his own.

Hanamaki knows he has _won_.

"_Ko_?“, he asks, elbowing him insinuatingly.

But the shorter just shakes his head. "Leave _me_ out of that one. I'm already head deep in a _very_ intense affair with _this_ thing“, and he inhales with a pleasured sigh.

_Yeah_, point taken. Right now, the only thing he wants is this baby. On the other hand: Exquisite smoke _and_ one of Sugas no less desirable blowjobs, that would be the _thing_! He is rather certain he would have a stroke within the first minute but it would be a death _worth_ _dying_ if _those_ were the last two things he felt.

Something nudges his thigh and he finds that Suga as started to lounge against Issei’s shoulder, smoothing his legs over Maki's lap. He grins and puts his hand down, petting the slender calves and pressing his thumb along the line of his muscles. Suga half moans into his next inhale.

He takes another deep one himself. _Mother of God_, this is _bliss_.

The smoke curls into the sky as they watch the sun climb up the horizon, pushing over the edge and the golden burst turns softer, the planes above them bluer and the clouds whiter. A little wind has picked up, not cold or strong enough to make them uncomfortable or _endanger their treasures_. Exactly the right amount to be nothing but comforting and he takes a look into their round.

At _Iwaizumi_ watching the city, _Oikawa_ looking into the sky, _Suga_ with his eyes closed, face peaceful and at _Issei_ who is looking at him, lips twitching upwards and his ridiculously thick eyebrows wiggling at him.

He grins and inhales again.

Yeah, _this_ is how he likes his sunrises!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a little something over (a first attempt at going a little into the NSFW direction) that I will put into the next chapter.  
I hope you liked it so far and on the off chance that you do not want so read the smooch, I will put all info here as well:
> 
> Since I am now visiting university, I will (presumably) not have as much time to write as I used too (but knowing my disaster ass, I probably will take it anyways).  
So I can't say when the next 'actual' chapter will come.  
In every case I will make an announcement on my Tumblr: [charlythelee](https://charlythelee.tumblr.com)
> 
> As for this chapter I hope you liked it and in case you are wondering what songs I had in mind when I wrote this chapter, here they are (and also let me know if you would be interested in me making a Soundcloud playlist or something of the sorts? Music will get a big theme is this story):  
Inspiration for '[The Oak Tree](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SEMuUZ0tdvo)'  
Suga's and Maki's dance: [Little Help](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cKXUyS6rQ8A)


	7. Get what you want (mild NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is my first little attempt at writing something remotely smutty, I am still putting it into an extra chapter, just to be safe.  
There are no too graphic descriptions but I wanted to be on the safe side.

Oikawa has rarely woken up feeling _this_ done!

But he is feeling done with fingers carding through his hair and snuggled into a muscular, familiar chest.

So it’s okay, he’s guessing.

"_Hey_“, Iwaizumi sounds hoarse, like he just woke up himself.

Tooru hums into his chest and squeezes the hip, his arm is slung over, slightly.

Iwaizumi continues to massage his scalp for a little longer and Oikawa _melts_ into it.

Hajime is rarely this soft with him unless he’s hungover. It’s a _terrible_ motivation, he _knows_, but for a while, he actively tried to get his, back then,_ boyfriend_, as shitfaced as possible in order to receive these morning cuddles.  
Of course the other found out quickly and he had gotten _one hell_ of a scolding.

For some reason from Matsun as well because quote; _I am not getting you a new liver if you drink your old one to shit!_; unquote.

_Hah, tell that to Hiro!_

"What time is it?“, he eventually asks and there is movement when Iwaizumi cranes his neck to look at the alarm clock on his bedside table.  
"Bout three in the afternoon“, he mumbles.

Oh.

_Oh_.

_Damn_. And he can _still_ taste that cigar on his tongue.

"Tooru“, he lifts his head to meet Iwaizumi’s eyes, but his view is blocked by a chin when the other leans down to kiss him on the forehead.  
"You stink, _Iwa-Chan_“, Oikawa giggles and is sloppily slapped over the back of his head.  
"You’re _such_ a jerk“

But the '_jerk'_ turns into a breathed out '_fuck_' as soon as Tooru refocuses on the pecks in front of his face and gently bites at the muscles, making his way up to Iwaizumi’s collarbone, sucking a red trail, moving his lips and tongue just the way, he _knows_, will set the other off.  
Inch by inch he oozes his way up further and when he has the right position, he rolls them over until he’s sitting on Iwaizumi’s lap and can finally meet the other's lips.

They are disgusting, both tasting of old alcohol and cigar on top of the usual morning breath. But it’s _bearable_ because warm hands rest on his hips, thumbs press along the line of his bone and Oikawa is moaning into the kiss.

"I love you, _jerk_“, Iwaizumi whispers, then dives his tongue in deeper.

Tooru gives in, opens his jaws further, taking Iwaizumi and greeting him with his own wet tongue.

It’s filthy.

It’s absolutely _filthy_.

He never wants to stop.

"They really stole away our entire night“, he says out breathlessly when they have to part.

"_Hm_….“, Iwaizumi, smoothes his hands up his body, more interested in exploring the familiar slopes of his naked chest than his statement. "Well, we kind of knew that"

"But _Iwa-Chan_, we are _married_ now and we didn’t even have the time to _seal_ it“, he coos and sits back on his husband's lap, pressing down into his groin.

Iwaizumi takes the hint and with his usual strength, he flips them over, now pressing Tooru into the crumpled sheets, hips grinding down against his own.

"_Hajime_, not so fast“, Oikawa groans, because his head is swimming. "I’m hungover!“

"And yet you are _begging_ to get fucked through the mattress“, a low growl in his ear, the sharp pain of a bite into the lope.

Oikawa _moans_, arching up, nausea partially forgotten.

Iwaizumi sits back until he’s comfortable between his spread legs, running a hand under the fabric of the blue pyjama pants and digging his fingertips into the muscles of his thighs.

"_Fuck_, I love you so much, _Shittykawa_!“, Iwaizumi pants, _way_ too breathless for the fact they have not even _started_ warming up.

Clear sign, he too, is borderline _wasted_.

And then he takes one of his hands out of the _leg-end_ of his pants and starts to put it back in, only this time from the _other_ side.

Oikawa groans, _pleased_ as strong fingers wrap around his dick and slide over the head, down to his base.

"_Hajime_“, he moans out, head dipping back and momentarily he falls into the bedding.

But no, _no,_ he can’t just let him do everything like that. It’s a sight he wants to savour.

So Oikawa props himself up on one elbow, the other arm reaching out to gently _scratch_ at Iwaizumi’s forearm.

The other shudders, pleased and his next stroke is more intent.

"_Fuck_, you’re all mine now!“, he looks down at Tooru possessively and full of lust.

"I’m yours and you’re mine. _Darling_“

Iwaizumi _blinks_ at him. And the burning, fierce desire is replaced by confusion.

_Oh shit_.

"Sorry… _Love_?“, Oikawa tries to save it but it only makes Iwaizumi cringe more and with an exasperated groan he sits back, pulling his hand from Oikawa’s pants, burying his face in the other he removes from his leg.

"_Hajime_“, Oikawa does his best to sound seductive, but he knows he’s lost him because Iwaizumi just glances up at him with a _deadpan_ face.

"You _had_ to make this weird, _didn’t you_?“

"Oh_ come on_, you must have a _little_ bit of romantic affinity somewhere in your _Godzilla_ heart!“, Oikawa breathes out, because _seriously_! That was _completely normal_!

"But '_darling'_? _Really_?“, Iwaizumi shudders.

It’s not like Oikawa doesn’t know, pet names kill Iwaizumi’s sex drive faster than their parents walking in on them.

He doesn’t know _why_ he said it and as Iwaizumi gets up and tells him: „I need to wash my mouth, I feel _disgusting_“, Oikawa is left half-hard and with a painful reminder that hungover sex has its downsides too - his brain to mouth filter completely shutting down for example.

Days like that Oikawa is _infinitely_ thankful for the large clock of their refrigerator, that shows not only hours and minutes but also the date and most importantly: The _seconds_!

Because they just got home from dinner with the gang after a late brunch with their parents, it is _11:54:32_ pm and Iwaizumi is taking him as he needs it. _Hard_.

Oikawa glances at the clock. At this rate, they _should_ make it. They _have to_ because he will be _damned_ if he doesn’t get his hot wedding sex!

And he gets it, _oh he gets it good_. And he didn’t even have to do anything.

The moment the door closed behind them, Iwaizumi had ripped off his own shirt first, then Oikawa’s and smashed him into the wall, a hungry tongue shoving itself deep into his throat and strong hands pulling him down to the other's level.

_Somehow_ in a mess of moaned communication, they had managed to get Oikawa out of his pants and onto the kitchen counter.

"Fuck _Tooru_“, the breathless growl right into his ear is sending _sparks_ through his entire body and a loud moan slips his lips as Iwaizumi hits his prostate spot on.

"_Hajime_“, he gasps out, fingernails digging into his partner's shoulders and back, clawing for leverage to pull himself _harder_ against the vigorous thrusts making him come apart.  
Iwaizumi’s hands are bruising his ass, scraping over the tense muscles and he is relentlessly biting at Oikawa’s throat and neck.

Fuck, _fuck_, **fuck**.

They are sweaty and panting and all in all a total mess, when the clock shows _11:59:28_ _pm_ and Oikawa straight out _screams_ when Iwaizumi fucks him through their orgasms.

_Just in time_ \- but he didn’t expect anything less.

After all, he _always_ gets, what he really wants and Iwaizumi has never disappointed him.

Chest heaving he lets his head fall down against the others shoulder, arms shaking from the strain, still holding on to the shorter.

"You good?“, Iwaizumi asks him, voice grave.

"Hell _yeah_ \- we should do that more often!“, Oikawa jokes, breath huffy and ragged.

It’s the way Hajime _smirks_ at him, all tooth and want, that sends terrified quakes down Tooru’s spine.

"_Oh_, you think so?“

"I’m your's Hajime. _Take me_!“

And they kiss again, more teeth than lips. Now they just have to make it to the bedroom somehow.

_They don’t._

The next three days are an unholy litany of sore muscles, mental exhaustion and a fading hangover.

Kuro laughing at them, when he comes over to bring the lunch they are too tired to go out for, _does not help_. Smacking him and emptying a glass of cold water into his collar however _do_.

A _little bit_ at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puh *nervous sweating*  
So I hope that was too cringe-worthy - please let me know I can improve, from grammar to vocabulary to... well anything that is putting you off about my writing in general!
> 
> Since I am now visiting university, I will (presumably) not have as much time to write as I used too (but knowing my disaster ass, I probably will take it anyways).  
So I can't say when the next 'actual' chapter will come.  
In every case, I will make an announcement on my Tumblr: [charlythelee](https://charlythelee.tumblr.com)


	8. Chapter 6: A little bit of both

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pace picks up and the puzzle of the past begins to put itself together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and thanks for tuning back in with AATT.  
While writing the latest chapters I realized that I never bothered to explain the lore of this AU before, so that is what I am going to do now.
> 
> There isn’t really much different, other than the main ‚quirk‘ that makes it an AU: Suga went to Aoba Johsai and not to Karasuno.
> 
> Other than that, there are (so far) only two things that I realized might need further explaining.
> 
> 1st) The High School Time Line  
In this AU I decided, for plot sake, to put one more year in between the canon second and first years, so that eg. Daichi, Asahi and Kiyoko had already graduated when Hinata, Kags and co came to Karasuno - so they never met.  
I know that this way there is a small plot hole concerning Kageyama’s and Oikawa’s rivalry but I am currently thinking of a way to patch it up.  
This, unfortunately, also means the First Years have become a little irrelevant for the story and will, therefore, except for a few exceptions, not make an appearance. So far Yamaguchi, Yachi (because they are precious) and Lev (because I am a desperate LevYaku whore) safely included into my concept, as for the others I am still looking for opportunities to introduce them.
> 
> 2nd) The Setting  
Originally I planned to have AATT set in either Saitama or Tokyo (or just any other big city that isn’t Sendai) but then I realized, I was too lazy to read myself into Japanese city structures and constantly fumble with google street view, to make descriptions and routes accurate. (Yes, you may hate my lazy ass, but eh, writing this is supposed to be fun, so I do what I want *insert evil laughing*)  
So I decided to simply add another big city to the country. In my head I drew a line through Yokohama and Tokyo and then somewhere around the same latitude as Saitama, I dropped my new cultural epicentre for the boys to wreak havoc in. It doesn’t have a name to, so, for now, it is just „The City“ (da da da dam * drumroll*).
> 
> So, that's it so far, I hope I was able to bring a bit of light into the darkness.  
Should further Lore appear I will let you know in the chapter notes or you can check out the Lore Masterpost on my Tumblr:  
[Lore Masterpost](https://charlythelee.tumblr.com/post/189287509328/aatt-lore-post)

_ “Yo, you’re in the volleyball Club too, _ aren’t you? _ ” _

Oh damn_. Matsukawa couldn’t help but inwardly count the days. Three. _ That _ few? This was alarming! _

_ With a little grunt, he acknowledged the other's presence and dared the most whimsical of glimpses over the edge of his _ Shonen Jump _ . _

_ The chaperone, that Oikawa kid and the one with pink hair. _ Fuck _ \- of course, it had to be the most annoying ones! _

_ The defining question was now: Had _ he _ gotten bad at hiding or were _ they _ just good at finding people? _

_ Or maybe an unfortunate coincidence? _

_ “Can we sit with you?”, the buff one asked him. _

No_. But he bit down the word and instead granted them another quick glance over the latest _ Gintama _chapter. _

_ Then with another little neutral huff, he retreated his leg just a few centimetres. It was not enough space to actually sit there but more a form of silent consent. _

_ Issei did his best to ignore them. They were noisy and now he would have to look for a new spot! _

_ Finding this one had been his _ first _ and _ only _ luck so far. _

_ The school was busy, his classmates loud and with their heads in the clouds, the Club was exhausting and the uniform _ not at all _ his style - only this secluded spot at the very side of the backyard had been speaking to him. It was not uncomfortable, sheltered from the wind and mostly from rain and most importantly: it was _ quiet_! _

_ That was until now. _

_ His pages _ wobbled_. _

_ He stopped short. _

_ They quaked again and Matsukawa’s brows drew dangerously close as he looked over the rim for a third time. _

_ “Matsukawa, right?”, it was the guy with the weird hair. What kind of colour was that anyway? _

_ But Issei was too focused on the lanky finger pulling at his magazine. _

_ “Yes”, he gritted out, then pointedly drew the pages closer to himself. He hated the talkatives. _

_ “ _ Wow_, someone got up on the wrong foot”, the guy grinned. _

_ “ _ Gintama_?” _

_ Oh _ great_. Now the one, that was constantly shadowing the Oikawa kid, had decided to make conversation too. _

_ Just. _ Fucking_. Great. _

_ “Yes”, he tried to sound as neutral as he could. _

Mistake_! Now they were scooting closer. _

_ “Oh nice, I need to get the new one later - _ don’t spoil! _ ” _

Didn’t plan to_. But maybe if he did they would leave him alone. For a moment he was seriously contemplating the option, but in the end, his respect for a fellow fan’s inviolacy was stronger. He was a _ loner_, not an _ asshole_! _

_ And with that and a hum, the bodyguard leaned back out of his personal space and over to his friend. _

_ The Oikawa kid was sitting a little drawn back, hunched against his protector's side. The very protector that was currently pushing him away. _

_ “God damn it, stop _ clinging _ to me, I need that arm to eat!” _

_ The one with the soft brown curls mumbled something Issei didn’t bother to comprehend. _

_ “No one here is going to bite you, so stop being difficult!” _

_ “I am making _ no _ such promises”, Issei said on reflex, the exact same moment Pinkyhead did, who, after a second of confusion bedazzled him with the most _ shiteating _ grin ever. _

_ “Would you look at this: _ It talks _ ” _

Oh no._ Matsukawa had a feeling he would not get rid of them as soon as he had dared to hope. _

*******

Suga awakes, smothered into a warm and comfortable cocoon of entangled limbs and crumpled blankets.

He groans softly as he tries to stretch his sore limbs in the little space at his disposal.

The arm slung over his hips moves and wraps itself tighter around his middle, pulling him flush and a pair of hot lips starts to press into his neck.

“_Hiro_!”, Suga grumbles, but his complaint is undercut by a little gasp. _My god!_

The fact, his entire body is at attention _this_ fast, by just a tongue flexing against his skin is more of enough of an indicator on just how thoroughly Hanamaki had worked on his neck last night.

Or today - however one likes to classify times like these.

He cranes his head, both to escape the stimulation on his sensitive and raw cervix and to glance past a bush of wild black curls and check the clock. _Oh shit!_

Something is mumbled into his skin, too slurry to understand but the message is very clear. Takahiro does _not_ intend to let him go and frankly, in his position, Suga is not capable of shaking him off.

“_Hiro_!”, he begs again but the arm pulls tighter and the hand attached to it starts to stray.

Suga gasps and sparks fly over his eyes. _Not_ good!

Just as he can contemplate kicking both of them out of bed and hoping to escape this way another pair of limbs snake around his body and with a soft groan he is lifted up and rolled over to the other side of the bed.

“There you go”, Matsun mumbles into his hair, now shielding him from their greedy friend.

“_Thanks_”, Suga huffs breathlessly. Takahiro _whines_ on the other side.

“Go ahead, I’ll try to wrap him up a little”, Issei jawns and Suga swings his legs out of bed.

_Good lord_, he feels like every single string of muscle is on fire. And the pounding in his head doesn’t help either.

Groggily he lumbers towards the bathroom, rubbing at his eyes.

His exhausted body tells him to use the toilet, drink something and then crawl _straight_ back into the sheltered spot he just vacated on the bed. But his mind is blaring at him to go to the Dome and check if breakup went smooth.

The shower helps, clears his head from the rest dizziness and wakes him some more.

The mirror, however, seems to be his enemy today.

_ God damn it, Hiro! _

The bites start right below his ear and stretch well onto his chest and shoulders. It’s a patchwork of oval imprints and purple hickeys. Suga trails his hand over the sensitive skin and shudders.

He can’t go out like this. Not today and most likely not for the _next two weeks_!

With a sigh, he wraps the towel he’s borrowed over his shoulders and returns to the bedroom.

_Now_, where in this mess are his clothes?

He looks over at the bed and finds that Hanamaki has now wrapped Issei into a _very_ tight octopus embrace, his arms and legs twined around his brother and half on top of him.

“_Sorry_ \- that backfired a little”, the dark-haired whispers and looks up at Suga with soft eyes.

Suga smiles and brushes a short strand of cherry blonde hair out of Maki's eyes.

“Don’t worry, your sacrifice will not be forgotten”, he grins and bops his brother's nose.

Usually, he keeps a set of clothes at Hiro's place, as he does at Matsun’s as well as Iwaizumi’s and Oikawa’s. Just like they keep stuff at his apartment too. It has proven useful in the past to be flexible after a night out or one of their bucket list trips.

But right now he can only find his underwear and jeans, so he borrows one of Takahiro’s hoodies and takes Matsun’s scarf from the wardrobe - the one with the pecan and apricot squares he bought for his birthday two years ago.

He checks his wrapping _twice_ and makes sure the loose ends are secured tightly, so he won’t lose it. 

Luckily for him, he finds a taxi just one block down the street and waves it over.

He is late, but what can you do.

His only hope is, he didn’t miss Daichi.

***

_Iwaizumi needed _up and about _five weeks to get used to them. _

_ The guy with the pink hair was a _ bit _ much, tough genuinely funny, even when he ever so often pushed the borders of political correctness and basic human decency to a critical degree. _

_ Hanamaki was irritating for sure, especially since the switch from disinterested and bored to hyperactive and horrible jokes was _ seldom _ foreseeable and _ mostly _ patternless. But he was also friendly and all in all good company _

_ The other one… well, he didn't really know. _ Hell damn_, he said he was _ used _ to him, not that he knew what was happening inside that guy's head! _

_ Matsukawa was silent, reserved and mostly hidden behind his _ Jump_. He always had the latest issue the morning it was released and if he didn’t read that, then he was hiding behind some other manga. If Iwaizumi didn’t know better he would have thought the tall boy was shy or maybe an introvert, but once in a while, he made those witty comments, proving he was very well paying attention to his surroundings and that above all things he was alert and smart. He just didn’t seem to like people, although he was polite enough not tell them to their faces to fuck off. _

_ And _ seriously._ Iwaizumi was thoroughly convinced they weren’t bothering him, _half _ as much as he pretended they did. _

_ It should never have been to his surprise that his one and the mysteriously _ only _ problem was Oikawa. It was _always Oikawa.

_ With the pride, he showed on court and the grace he bedazzled his quickly growing fan club with, one should think he would be good at socializing. _

_ It was a _ disaster_! _

_Because _yes_, he was good at being the centre of attention and dealing out humble comments to the ones marvelling him, but _actual, human _interaction: The boy was shy as a mouse._

_ He was constantly tugging at his sleeve and attempting to spend their breaks just the two of them. He was also suspicious towards _ every _ stranger, very well including the two they had managed not to immediately scare away. _

_ Tooru having troubles making new friends was nothing new but it made it hard for Iwaizumi to do so as well. _

_ Not that he _ minded _ him, _ god no_, he would never say it out loud but he _ liked _ having his best friend around. Although he wished the other would jump over his shadow _ once _ in a while - that, however, was another thing never to be spoken aloud. It would only lead to endless discussions and in the end, Tooru would be bitchy and Iwaizumi would be pissed and they would fight and it would be a hassle and simply not worth the price. _

_ And so he was just _ grateful _ Hanamaki was putting up with his constant plus one and didn’t seem to mind. _

_ Matsukawa was minding nothing, as long as you left him his personal space. He was a comfortable counterweight to the redhead's hysterical fits, whenever someone happened to choose equivocal wording and Oikawa's usual blabbering. _

_ He yawned and stretched his sore shoulders. He _ did not miss _ being the baby! _

_ Sure their upperclassmen were more experienced and naturally held the authority but still - he paid the respect they deserved but he could not claim to _ like _ being pushed around like this. _

_ It was a _ big _ school and a _ big _ club so this was only natural he assumed. And frankly, with the weeks he started to enjoy the challenge of having to climb the ranks again. _

_ “You two staying late?”, Hanamaki asked him, throwing a towel over his shoulders and picking up his bottle. _

_ The gym was clearing out quickly, now that the coach had dismissed them. _

_ “ _ He _ is, I am just chaperoning - If I don’t make sure he stops you’ll find him here tomorrow morning, _ still _ doing leaps”, he sighed and bent to pick up his bottle. _

_ His _ very light _ bottle. His _ empty _ bottle. _

_ What the… “Hey _ Trashykawa_, don’t drink my water, you shithead!”, he yelled. _

_ “Thanks for the flowers, but I am actually not interested in an acute testosterone infection”, said a deadpan voice right behind him and he turned to see _ Matsukawa, _blinking down at him. _

_ “Oh… I umn… _ sorry_, I didn’t mean you, you are not a shithead!”, he managed out. _ Oops_. _

_ “Bold assumption”, Matsukawa stated with a little yawn, that might have been hiding the _ tiniest _ bit of a smirk. _

_ “I mean… that’s _ not _ ...I meant _ my _ shithead!”, Iwaizumi stumbled over his own words. _

_ “ _ Your _ shithead!?”, Hanamaki crooked his eyebrows. _

_ Iwaizumi’s mouth opened, then closed and in the end, he simply mumbled: “ _ Oh shut up _ ” _

_ The strawberry blond snickered and he could feel Matsukawa radiating amusement. _

_ What had Iwaizumi done for the gods to torment him like this!? _

_ “ _ Iwa-Chan_, you are very red!”, Oikawa snapped his fingers in front of his face and he flinched. _

_ God damn it. _

_ What had there been again!? Something… _ something _ … _

_ He tried to take a sip of water…and got a mouth full of air. Empty, _ right_! _

_ He growled something incomprehensible and stomped off without another word while ignoring the confused little: “ _ Iwa-Chan? _ ” _

_ He was aggravated all the way across the paved space to the water basin, the entire ten seconds it took his bottle to fill, every single step over to the club room to get his pullover because, _ damn _ it was getting chilly, now that the sun had dropped and pretty much until he bumped into the boy with the grey hair. _

_ Iwaizumi stumbled back and for the few seconds it took him to get past his annoyed haze he was genuinely confused. Then he recognised what, or better _ who_, he had walked into. _

_ “Oh, _ sorry _ … erm...”, he bent down to pick up the bottle he had dropped and the scarf that had slid off the light-haired’s shoulders, while his brain was flying loops. He knew the boy, they were in the same class, but his _ name _ !? “...uh, Su ... _ gawara_, right?”, he offered the cloth out. _

_ The other readjusted his messenger bag’s strap before he took back his scarf and plucked a bit of dirt off the light blue fabric. _

_ “No, I should be sorry, I didn’t watch where I was walking!”, he hastily replied with a shy smile. _

_ “Oh uh, no I didn’t pay attention either, sorry”, Iwaizumi fumbled. This was _ weird_. “Umn… _ Iwaizumi_, I erm, I don’t think we talked yet”, he offered his hand awkwardly. _

_ The silver-haired boy looked at it for a second then a genuine and warm smile moved over his face and he shook. _

_ “I don’t think we have”, he mused. Sugawara had a gentle but firm handshake. _

Phew_. Iwaizumi could feel the tension drop and he instantly relaxed a little more. _

_ “ _ Dude_, you’re in the way” _

_ And of course, it had to be his new… okay, there was no point trying to avoid it, _ friends_. _

_ “Just because _ you _ are staying late, doesn’t mean you have to chain _ us _ to this gym too”, Hanamaki informed him. _

_ “ _ Shut up _ ”, Iwaizumi growled and scooted to the side, Sugawara following his example letting the other two pass into the club room. _

_ “You are staying late?”, the smaller asked as they were alone on the porch again. _

_ “Oh _ yes_, I mean, _ Oikawa _ is. I have to play babysitter”, he sighed. _

_ Sugawara hummed, in thought. “He likes to overdo it, _ doesn’t he_? It’s good of you to be careful with that knee of his” _

_ Iwaizumi was halfway to answering then he stopped short. How did the other know? About Oikawa's knee - he told nobody except the coach and he hasn’t worn the supporter to training yet, so... _

_ “It’s not hard to miss if one pays attention - he drags his leg when he sidesteps”, Sugawara offered, having taken notice of Iwaizumi’s confusion. _

_ “ _ Oh _ ”, was all he could muster. Was it _ really?_ To _ Iwaizumi _ it was, but he had known Oikawa since _ forever_. He knew how to read him, this stranger, however… “I umn, _ yes_, he can be a bit eccentric” _

_ Sugawara chuckled. “I thought so”, then he took a look at his wristwatch and sighed. “Sorry, but I have to leave or I’ll miss my bus”, he gave him another smile and a short wave. “See you tomorrow, Iwaizumi” _

_ And off he skipped, down the few stairs and away across the yard. _

_ Iwaizumi was left dumbfounded. _

_ A little slow he entered the room, barely taking notice of Hanamaki and Matsukawa changing. He walked over to his own locker as if the world had been dunked in syrup and began to fumble with the metal bar. _

_ “ _ Hey_, earth to Iwaizumi!”, someone flicked his shoulder. _

_ He looked over. Hanamaki. _

_ “Do… what do you know about Sugawara?”, he asked. _

_ “ _ Who _ ?” _

_ “The one that was just outside. With the light hair. He’s in our grade”, Matsukawa offered, closing his locker and swinging his bag over his shoulder. _

_ “Oh yeah right, I didn’t know his name… umn let’s see”, and Hanamaki scratched his chin, narrowing his eyes. “ _ Yeah,_ I got _ nothing _ ” _

_ Iwaizumi nodded then he glanced over at their tallest. _

_ “Don’t look at _ me_”, Matsukawa dismissed him right out of hand. “He’s a setter I think. That’s about it” _

_ Iwaizumi sighed. That was about the only information he had about his classmate too. _

_ He had paid extra attention to his play when he first heard, but he found himself a little disappointed. And then had _ immediately _ gotten mad at himself. He was just too used to Oikawa's skills, that every other setter seemed basic to him, which was _ unfair_! Sugawara wasn’t bad. His play was textbook but very solid. Every other team would have taken him with kisses left and right. But they had Oikawa. And _ no one _ compared to Tooru. _

_ “ _ Why _ \- he say something or what?”, Hanamaki proceeded to button up his shirt and Iwaizumi took his pullover out of his locker. _

_ “Something of the sorts - but it’s not important”, he shrugged. _

_ “Does Oikawa have reason to be jealous?”, the other wiggled his eyebrows and Matsukawa rolled his eyes so audibly Iwaizumi could _ feel _ the sound. _

_ “ _ Please_, have you looked at them? _ My parents _ are less married that these two”, he snorted. _

_ Iwaizumi needed a solid minute to make sense out of their words and when he did he flushed bright red. _

_ “What do I need enemies for, when I have _ you _ guys for friends”, he grumbled. _

_ “ _ Bold of you to assume we are friends _ ”, Hanamaki and Matsukawa said in unison. _

_ Iwaizumi groaned and threw his clothes over his shoulder. _

_ “Alright, I am _ out_, see you tomorrow”, he told them deadpan, then he whisked __into the cold, jogging back to the gym. _

_ On the way, he thought about Sugawara. Maybe he should try talking to him tomorrow, he had a feeling that the other boy would be an interesting conversation. In every case he was heedful and it was always good to have a reliable source of information, that wasn’t Oikawa picking up on all the gossip. _

_ He returned into the light and warmth of the building to find Oikawa toss a ball against the wall. _

_ “I_wa-Chan_, I was _ worried_, what took you so long?”, he said without lessening his attention on the leather sphere. _

_ “Oh umn, nothing. Bumped into someone. _ Tooru_, who did you tell about your knee?”, he put down pullover and bottle and walked over to his friend. _

_ “I _ swear _ I haven’t done anything, so don’t be mad with me!”, the other told him, firmly, but not without a worried side glance. _

_ “I… _ what _ ?”, Iwaizumi stopped short, “I am _ not mad _ !”, he barked. _

_ “You _ only _ call me Tooru when you are mad. _ Or _ worried” _

_ “I do _ not_!”, he huffed but immediately started to think back to the last twelve hundred instances he had called the other by his given name. “And I am _ not _ mad. I _ just _ wanna know!” _

_ Oikawa caught the ball he had been pitching and granted him a raised eyebrow. But he didn’t try to argue. _

_ “Only the coach why? It wasn’t been bad lately, I really, _ really _ promise!”, he hunched a bit behind the ball in an attempt to appear vulnerable and honest. _

_ It didn’t suit him. _

_ “I am not going to hit you, so stop acting like I am about to and toss me the damn ball already, Shittykawa!”, Iwaizumi huffed out with a sigh. _

_ Oikawa brightened up instantly, happily grabbed the balls and rolled the pouch over to the court, humming. _

_ Iwaizumi couldn’t help but smile. _

_ That was more of his Tooru. He could still kick him as soon as he talked to Sugawara again. _

***

Daichi doesn’t see Suga the next day. He waits and _waits_ to the point Yui is starting to get whiney but Daichi insists on just five more minutes, _ten_ more minutes.

But Suga doesn’t show.

One of the catering girls sees him pacing and after a few hushed words with Yui, she pats his back as says: “Aw _don’t worry_, we came here at seven and they were still on the terrace. Probably deep asleep, your lo… _buddy_“

Daichi knows she was one breath away from saying _lover_ and he tries not to explode bright red.

But the information does ease him a little.

It’s only two in the afternoon so far. Suga is probably _really_ deep asleep. Daichi can’t help but imagine that he must look very cute when asleep and immediately steps on his own toes as hard as he can.

_No_, stupid brain!

“Are, _umn_, you okay?“, the catering girl asks him and he gives her a, _totally not forced_, smile.

“_Yeah_, thank you“

She grants him another curious look, then she smiles too, a little shy, and hushes back over to her colleagues packing the last of their boxes into a van.

“Totally not weird, _nope_“, Yui bumps his elbow mockingly and he mutters, “_Shut up_“

With a snicker, she stretches herself and yawns.

“Alright let’s get this stuff back to the shop“

Daichi follows her to their own car and climbs into the driver seat.

Yui fastens her seatbelt and he pulls out into the street.

But she lets out a _shriek_ only seconds later as Daichi, halfway through manoeuvring the _Hyundai_ out into traffic, hits the brakes _hard_ and swiftly sets them back into their spot.

“_God damn it_, Sawamura, what the…“, she curses but Daichi doesn’t wait for her to finish, as he shuts down the engine and jumps out the door.

“_Sorry_, be right back!“, he yips and narrowly avoids a _BMW_, who’s driver angrily shouts at him.

Daichi could not care less. He takes a sprint across the street.

“Suga, _hey_, wait up“, he calls the second he safely reaches the sidewalk and the silver-haired figure turns to him, surprised.

“Oh, Daichi. Where… _where_ did you come from?“, he asks groggily, adjusting the scarf tightly wrapped around his neck and lower face.

“_Erm_…“, he doesn’t really need to answer. Yui is leaning out of the driver's window screaming at him.

“Are you _nuts_? At least warn me!“, she shouts, face red. “And also: _Hello Suga_“

“_Oh_… I _see_“, Suga grins a bit lopsided, then he lifts his arm and waves. “_Hello Michimiya, nice to see you_“, he shouts back.

Yui flaps her hands in response, pointing at Daichi first, then mimicking to choke him.

Suga chuckles into his hand and Daichi takes the time to scan him over. 

The smaller is tightly packed into the brown and orange scarf, his usually pale face even whiter - scratch that, _grayer_.

He doesn’t look healthy, nor well-rested. Unsurprisingly if he had really been at the dome until sunrise.

His eyes are sunken in, have dark bags underneath them and yet his beauty mark twinkles like a diamond when he looks at Daichi.

“I am glad you are still here“, he smiles, warmly but exhausted.

“Yeh me… me too“, Daichi breathes out and tries a little smile.

Suga wants to say something but a yawn interrupts him and he turns his face away, hand covering his mouth.

“_Sorry_“, he mumbles, rubbing at his left eye.

“The catering said you were here until seven“

Suga has a stray strand of hair, at the back of his head, that is breaking the damp and tousled waves by sticking out, freed from all gravitational laws. Daichi just barely withstands the urge to smooth it down. It just looks so soft… so, _so_ _soft_.

“Eight _actually_“, the other muses, then he yawns again.

“You should go back to bed!“, Daichi tells him firmly.

“Ah, I will, but I promised to check everything before handing the venue back to the company. Kaede is gonna kill me if it isn’t _exactly_ as we found it“, Suga sighs, then he thinks for a moment. “You would not happen to have seen her, would you? _Very_ tall, _very_ scary lady, dark hair, long fingernails and killer heels?“, he asks him then.

“Smile like razor blades, walks like she is going to roundhouse-kick you with said killer heels and stab out your eyeball?“, Daichi adds, a little _shiver_ running down his spine.

“_Yep_, _that’s_ her”, Suga chuckles.

“_Not today_ I haven’t“, _thank all goods_, he adds silently. “Who is she?“

“Matsun's sister“, Suga explains, “She organised the venue”

_Oh_, okay, well _that_ explains _a lot_, Daichi thinks with another shiver. What in tarnation's name is _wrong_ with that family and why have they decided to pick on Daichi of all people!?

“_No_, haven’t seen her“, he repeats.

Suga just shrugs. “Ah, she’s gotta be _somewhere_ around, and if she is only badgering the trainees“, then he yawns again and gives Daichi a timid smile, once again fumbling at his scarf.

“I should look for her and see if everything is cleaned up - which reminds me, could you do me a favor?“, his eyes are soft and Daichi’s stomach grows weak. 

„Sure“, he would do _everything_ for that face, work hours of overtime making insulting bouquets and whatever else of a favour these eyes need.

_ I need an intervention - a psychiatrist maybe. _

“You took the flowers with you right?“

“Yes“

“Okay so, I _know_ it’s some work and if you can‘t do it for free, it’s no problem -”

“_No_!“, Daichi said it before he knows what comes next. Suga blinks at him, surprised. “It’s _a favour_ \- not a job, _right_“, he adds quickly and Suga’s tired face turns a tad softer.

“_Right_“, he hums, “So I thought that maybe, only if it’s really not too much work -”

“_Suga_!“, Daichi raises his eyebrows at him and the other fumbles with his scarf once more.

“Yeah alright _alright_, so, could you pick out the flowers, that are still good and bundle them up for me? I thought it would be a waste to dispose of them and -”

This time it’s a loud horn blaring that interrupts him and Daichi looks across the street from where Yui in glaring at him.

He lifts his index finger._ One more Minute._

“Sorry, _the flowers that are still good_, yeah“

Suga chuckles, his face now positively pinking.

It’s just the weather,_ just the cold_, just the cold. _Just_. The. **Cold**.

“So, yeah, I don’t want them thrown away so I thought I could give them to the people who helped and _yeah_… they were really nice and just because the wedding is over, doesn’t mean they _aren’t_ anymore. I thought… I thought it would be nice to still have them around, keep the memory fresh. Not like we are _senile_ or anything just… you _know_… I like them and I don’t want them wasted, _so_…“, the more he talks the more Suga starts to play with the cloth around his neck, his fingers delicately twisting and rubbing the fabric. It’s _hypnotizing_.

“Okay“, Daichi breathes out, captivated by the movement.

“_Really_?“, Suga seems to brighten up and Daichi feels very warm.

Another, longer honk echoes through the street. And this time Daichi is actually grateful.

It rips him from his trance and saves him from doing something stupid… _like taking Suga’s hand_.

“I… umn, I should go, _yeah_.“, he manages out and scratches the back of his head. “I’ll text you when I’m through but I think you can pick them up tomorrow noon“

“_Thank you_!“, Suga beams. “See you tomorrow then“

“Yeah, see you tomorrow“, Daichi nods, then he turns to check traffic and look for a good opening to run back to the van, heart already racing even though he hasn’t moved yet.

Just as he attempts to bolt, he is held back by a soft touch to his wrist.

“Sorry, I… I forgot to ask you _umn_… next week Friday, the day after training we wanted to go to the club so… you, you can come too. _If you want_, I mean and I could… could make up for the flowers“, Suga is biting his lip, now definitely blushing.

Just the weather, _just the weather_, just the weather, Daichi keeps telling himself as his mouth opens and closes until he eventually croaks out: “Yeah…I’d love to!“

For a moment Sugawara looks like he misheard, but then his eyes _wrinkle_ and his mole seems to laugh at Daichi, _bright_ and _fond_ while his hand draws back and returns to playing with the scarf.

“See you tomorrow then“, he smiles, taking a few steps back.

“_Yeah_“

He flops down into the driver seat with a heavy sigh.

“_Are you nuts?_“, Yui asks him.

Daichi doesn’t answer.

Suga _asked him out._

_ No! No, he didn’t! _

_ He is returning a favour, that is all… that is all! _

And why the hell does his heart still skip beats like that. He feels warm, _very_ warm. He must be building up a fever, yes that is the only logical explanation, he is delirious! Probably already in a coma! Maybe that car _did_ hit him and he was already in the afterlife!?

His head clunks against the steering wheel and he mumbles: „_I don’t know_, I think I am“

***

Realization hits Suga exactly seven minutes and thirty-two seconds later and it straight out knocks the wind out of his sails.

He staggers and has to sit on one of the benches surrounding the venue space.

What _the hell_ was in that cigar? _Speed, LSD?_ Or had it been in the alcohol, because there is _no way in hell_ he is sober!

He just_ asked Daichi out!_

_ Oh god! _

He lets his head drop and buries his face in his hands.

_ Oh my god! _

This must be a lucid dream, this has to be some drugged fantasy, because if it isn’t, _if this is, in fact_, real life, then he is sorely and utterly screwed!

And _not_ in a nice way… well considering his sore muscles, not _only_ in a nice way!

“Hey, whoever ditched you, show me and he’ll regret living!“, the clicking of high heels on pavement stops right in front of him and long nails move through his hair, bringing order into the chaos.

“_I didn’t get ditched!_“, he mumbles.

_No_, he got affirmation and in that particular, _absurd_ scenario, it was _even worse_.

Because Suga was doomed to screw this up, this would end a _disaster_ and Daichi would _hate_ him and, and, _and_…

“_Bummer_, I would have loved to murder someone nice and slow right now“, Kaede sighs and sits down next to him.

Suga can’t help but let out a little chortle.

“_What_? Quit laughing, _I mean it_! These trainees here are all an illiterate bunch of idiots. I mean which part of ‘_Latte Macchiato with sprinkles_‘ is _so_ hard to understand!?“, she huffs out. “If I wanted a regular Latte I would have _said_ so, don’t you think“

Suga grins and straightens up.

“Ko-Chan this is _serious_, I _need_ my morning sprinkles!“, Kaede looks at him intensely. She _isn’t_ kidding, he knows this, but somehow he already feels better.

He takes a deep breath and shakes his head.

“Have to do everything yourself nowadays, _don’t you?_“, he grins and she chuckles.

“Oh no, _my_ assistant _never_ forgets my topping, but I’ll teach those twerps here a lesson. People have been fired for less“, and with that, she magically pulls a _Starbucks_ cup from her other side and takes a slurp.

“_Kaede_!“, Suga raises his eyebrow dunning. “We’ve been over this! You _can’t_ fire people because they forget your sprinkles just as Issei _isn’t_ allowed to wire up people without their consent!“

A snort and she rolls her eyes. “_Pfff_ \- whatever“, she huffs but there is a soothed turn to her face, that reminds Suga of her sibling and mother.

“_Speaking_ of my good for nothing brother, where did you leave him? I _strongly_ hope he didn’t just leave the cleanup to you?“, she sighs.

“Your good for nothing brother was a _real_ gentleman and sacrificed himself in exchange for my freedom“, Suga solemnly puts his hand over his heart. Kaede lets out a loud laugh.

“Oh, _I see_, tell Hiro I said _Hi_, then“, she grins and reaches over to pull at his scarf uncovering the mess that is left of his neck. “I thought you had him on a leash by now?“, she whistles impressed.

“_Unfortunately_ he grew fond of the leash“, Suga sighs, his lips turning into a fond little smile. „Some new kink thing“

Kaede snorts into her cup, devilish grin painting her face. „Some beasts aren’t meant to be tamed“

“No, but I wish he would _stop_ _biting_ so much when he’s drunk. Now it’s okay, but having to run around in turtlenecks in the _mid of summer_ in sort of unnerving“, Suga deadpans.

“How about _railings_, like the dentist makes for snoring?“, Kaede takes another zip if Latte, humming thoughtfully.

Now it is Suga’s turn to burst into laughter.

“_Thank you_“, he smiles, the tightness in his chest lifting a little.

He loves his little chats with Kaede and Tokiomi. They make him laugh, _feel safe_ just as Issei does, but since they don’t know about _every single disaster_ currently turning his life upside down, their conversations are free of anything that could weight him down and can give their best advice without being partisan. His brother is sometimes just too tense.

“I actually think I got _assent_ for a date, but I don’t know if _he_ thinks it’s a date and even _if_ he does, I don’t think it is a _good_ idea! We just started to be friends and I don’t want to mess it up. It just… just _slipped_ me!“, he, therefore, decides to confide in her.

Kaede hums, then she clicks her tongue. 

“You know, back when Ruard and I were dating, there was this photographer and he provided me with some pictures for my article. I offered to pay a round at the pub after and I think he got the wrong idea. I must admit I panicked _a little_. I _could_ have just punched him, sure but you know, that's always a _hassle_, so I just started to talk about my favourite Sailor Moon lore and _fortunately_ the girls next table chimed in, so we talked and _talked_ until he fell asleep, _right_ in his seat“, she begins.

Suga crooks his head to the side. “So you want me to _bore_ him to death?“

Kaede snorts. “Well _yes_, but actually _no_. What I am trying to tell you is: If you don’t want this to be a date, just _don’t make it one_. Bring someone who kills the vibes, do something that is definitely not date-worthy, just… _don’t act like it’s a date_ and before you know it isn’t anymore! I am not sure Flowers Guy is the _brightest_ bulb in the room but you got rid of that guy with the weird bed head and _nobody_ can be _more stupid_! He’ll get the hint“

Now Suga is shaking with laughter. “_Hey_, don’t be _mean_ to Kuro, he’s a great friend“

“Yes, and _a horrible boyfriend_ for you, so I will not take back any of my previous statements“, she pokes her sharp nail into his shoulder.

_Don’t make it a date_… when she says it, it sounds so _simple_.

_Bring someone who kills the vibes_… well, _Matsun_ was already scheduled on the team, that was a good start.

_Do a non-date activity_… Suga was sure Semi could use a helping hand. 

_Yes_, he would just be repaying Daichi for caring about the flowers, buy him a drink or two, _as friends_. Nothing _more_, nothing _less_!

Suga takes a deep breath.

In the worst case, he could always punch him unconscious.

“And in the worst case you just knock him out, _problem solved_“, Kaede mumbles through her Latte.

Suga shakes his head, grinning.

Well, it wouldn’t be the _first_ time he took one of his friends out like that.

Friend… _yeah_, Daichi was a _friend_, he was _his friend_ and _his friends' friend_. There was no reason to chicken out like this.

Hadn’t he already decided that _months_ ago already?

_ You are a hopeless idiot Sugawara Koshi! _

His companion finishes her brew, then skillfully dunks the empty cup into one of the trash cans.

“Oh and tell Hajime dear I already found a chance for him to pay up. My driver is on vacation next month but I have a few events I need to be _flashy_ for”, she tells him as she stands up and straightens her jacket.

“Oh he is _not_ going to like that”, Suga grins.

“He doesn’t have a _choice_, darling. Not unless he wants to keep pleasuring Tooru-Chan”, she gives him a smile, all teeth and while snapping the fingers of her right, she mimics a scissor snapping shut with her left.

“I’ll let him know”, Suga deadpans.

“_Good boy_! I’ll take care of this here, so you _go and sleep_. You look more dead than alive”, and off she goes, with a little wave and not without another head ruffle.

***

_ “Hey, Sugawara right? Do you mind if I sit?“ _

_ The light-haired boy looked up at Iwaizumi and tilted his head. _

_ “Please“, he then said with a little gesture of his hand. _

_ Hajime reached over to the next row and drew another chair to Sugawara’s table. _

_ “Are your friends not going to miss you?“, the other asked, pushing his neatly stapled utensils to the side in order to clear a little space. _

_ For a second Iwaizumi was too surprised to answer and so the boy gave him a shy smile. “I see you walking over to the backcourt ever day from up here“ _

_ “ _ Oh _ “, Iwaizumi managed, then he sighed and ruffled his hair. “I think they can manage ten minutes without me… I _ hope _ “ _

_ Sugawara simply hummed. _

_ “You, erm… you eat alone most of the time, _ don’t you _ ?“, he then asked carefully. _

_ The moment he said it out loud Iwaizumi realized that had been stupid. _ Very stupid! _ Sugawara, however, didn’t immediately throw something at him, nor did he tell him to fuck off, he simply looked at his lunchbox, still neatly packed at the side of the table for a few seconds before nodding and shrugging his slender shoulders. “I don’t mind the calm. Leaves me time to observe“ _

_ Iwaizumi just nodded, inwardly screaming his thanks, that the other had not taken offence in his insensible comment. His mother didn’t have time to make him lunch this morning so he would have to walk to the cafeteria and get himself a sandwich or something. He hated that cramped place, even though the food was surprisingly good. For a few seconds, they sat in silence, Sugawara folding his hands neatly over one another and Hajime _ desperately _ thinking about something to say before this got all _ too _ weird. _

_ “So umn… did, did you get the literature stuff from earlier?“, he proceeded. _ God_, he was _ so bad _ at this social stuff. _

_ “Most of it“, Sugawara pulled a college block from his things and flipped through the pages, then he turned it over to Iwaizumi. “I am not really certain about the fifth one tough, it was somewhat _ bizarre _ “ _

_ “You’re a live safer, this is all _ Chinese _ to me!“, Iwaizumi admitted, eagerly skimming the narrow handwriting. “Can I copy this after Club?“ _

_ “ _ Oh_, I… I need to go home, but if you don’t mind, I’ll transcribe this tonight and you can have the sheet tomorrow“, Sugawara looked at the table, scratching at his wrist. _

_ Iwaizumi cooked his head. _

_ “Strict parents?“, he asked with sympathy. _

_ For a second something _ twisted _ on the others face and when he answered: “No, _ not really_, I just don’t like to let people wait“, Iwaizumi felt like he was forcing the words. _

_ “Don’t worry, tomorrow is totally fine“, Hajime thus answered, tone appeasing and handed the boy back his notes. “You said you’d _ transcribe _ it… do you do that will all your notes?“, he decided to change the topic. _

_ “ _ Most_. Writing it again helps me reflect on it better“, Sugawara explained, once again calm and structured. _

_ Had Iwaizumi imagined the twist? It was over so quickly, he didn’t have a chance to examine him closer. But the faint feeling that there was more to this quiet boy than one would come to think off, at first sight, found itself strongly reassured. _

_ He whistled a bit impressed. _

_ “Nice, maybe I should try that too - I can’t seem to wrap my head around these syntaxes and whatnot“, he mused. _

_ “Not a friend of poetry?“, the other raised his eyebrow and Iwaizumi sighed helplessly. _

_ “It’s not that I _ don’t like it_, but most of it is just so… _ pretentious _ and I don’t really see the purpose of analyzing it to the moon and back. Just can’t help but wonder how much is just _ bullshit _ the author _ never intended_. Poetry is about _ feelings _ I think, not _ logic _ “, he shrugged defeated. _

_ Sugawara leaned back, face thoughtful. “Yeah, I think I know what you mean“, the tapped his fingers against the table and nodded. “But I guess that is just the natural human hubris“ _

_ Iwaizumi chuckled. “Hate to break it to you but _ philosophy _ is _ even less _ of my case than literature is“ _

_ Sugawara’s lips quirked upwards and Iwaizumi believed it was the first honest and full smile he had seen from the other so far. _

_ By now the room had turned noisy and people all around them were whispering hushedly. _

_ Hajime frowned. The break couldn’t be over yet… _ could it? _ This had _ not _ been half an hour! _

_ A shadow fell on the table. _

_ “ _ Iwa-Chan _ “ _

Oh_, well _ that _ explained why basically everyone was staring at them. _

_ Oikawa's face was still as stone but the _ displease _ he was radiating wasn’t exactly _ subtle_. _

_ Hanamaki on the other hand, perched up behind him, didn’t even try, shameless curiosity leaking from every pore. _

_ “ _ Really _ , just one month and he has _ already _ turned traitor. _ Shame on you _ Iwaizumi“, he huffed, shaking his head dramatically. _

_ “What are you? _ Five_? Can I literally not be fifteen minutes late?“, he groaned. _

_ “ _ Sixteen _ “, Matsukawa deadpanned - oh great so _ another _ oversized toddler! _

_ “ _ Shut up _ “, Iwaizumi growled. _

_ “Well, I warned you“, Sugawara shrugged with crinkling eyes. Only then did Hajime notice, the silver-haired had a mole right underneath the right. _

_ “ _ Iwa-Chan _ “, Tooru tucked at his shirt, insistent and with a little glare, tempting him to make a scene in the middle of the classroom, because _ come on! _ No need to be _ hostile, _ just because Iwaizumi was trying to make new friends. _

_ “Alright, stop being _ pesky_, I’m coming, _ chill _ !“, he gave in with a sigh as he got up from his chair, pushing it back to the table it belonged to with a little guilty stab. _

_ “ _ Umn_, do you, want to eat with us?“, he turned back towards Sugawara. _

_"First betrayal and now he’s trying to cover it up, _ I demand an intervention _ !“, Hanamaki scolded and Iwaizumi closed a hand over his mouth to shut the idiot up. _

_ “ _ Ignore _ that one“, he informed the silver-haired still sitting. _

_ “Already in effect“, the other grinned a little cheeky, giving the two a subtle look. “Thank you for the offer but I think I’ll better stay here“, he then answered slowly and softly. _

_ Iwaizumi frowned. But the people around them were still whispering and they were getting way more attention than he was comfortable with. _

_ “Okay, then… see you later“, he nodded and went to fetch his wallet, before allowing Oikawa to drag him out of the room. _

_ He did, however, not miss Sugawara’s watchful gaze following them all the way to the door _ nor _ how Matsukawa turned back twice. _

_ “What _ the hell _ is _ wrong _ with you!?“, Iwaizumi grunted out, angrily crunching on one of Tooru’s carrots. The cafeteria had been _ bursting _ with people and so he had a little begrudgingly agreed to share his friend's food. _

_ Oikawa pulled a grimace and huffed out as if offended. _

_ “You didn’t show, so I was _ worried_, something happened to you“, he informed Iwaizumi with challenge in his voice. _

_ “And what in tarnation's name did you _ think _ happened to me?“, he happily plunged into the squabble. _

_ “I don’t know, _ aliens _ could have abducted you!“, Tooru snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. _

_ “That you’re being _ confessed _ to“, Matsukawa deadpanned. So Tooru _ had _ chickened out, _ great_. _

_ “Oh, you _ gotta _ be shitting me!“, Hajime threw his arms in the air, almost hitting Hanamaki with his carrot. “ _ Nobody _ is going to confess to me!“, he rolled his eyes. _

_ The other three exchanged a series of very meaningful _ looks_. Or well, _ Hanamaki and Matsukawa _ were. Tooru was still sulking. _

_ “ _ What _ ?“, he looked between the two of them. „ _ Why _ are you looking like that?“ _

_ “ _ Well _ …“, Hanamaki started to grin like the little shit he was, “The second years have a bet going on, about who of you is going to be asked out first. And it seems like most of the money is on _ you _ “ _

_ It took him a few seconds to work his head around his friend's words. _

_ They… _ what_? _

_ “ _ What _ ?“, he gaped, choking on his food. “Wh… oh _ no no no_, you are messing with me, this is _ bullshit _ !“, he decided. Yes, that was just stupid and it sounded _ exactly _ like some kind of joke Hanamaki would come up with. _

_ “ _ Nope _ “, Matsukawa deadpanned. “Completely serious. We overheard them during warm-up last week“ _

_ “Bunch of incompetent _ goons_“, Tooru mumbled under his breath. _

_ Iwaizumis jaw dropped. “Are you _ jealous _ ?“ _

_ His friend huffed and turned his face away. Oh. Dear. _ Lord_. _This wasn’t happening.

_ “I mean, I kind of _ understand _ the line of thought here. You are just too _ mysterious _ Oikawa, you need to socialize more! Because if we count _ secret admirers _ I’m _ sure _ you’d be leading, but nobody is daring to actually confess to you. _ Iwaizumi _ is _ approachable _ “, Hanamaki scratched his chin, actually and sincerely contemplating the issue. _

_ And Hajime buried his face in his hands with a loud _ groan_. _

_ This was _ not _ how he had expected High School to start. _

_ “ _ My condolences _ “, Matsukawa patted his back unenthusiastically, before he leaned back to hide behind his _ Jump Magazine_. _

_ “ _ Fuck off“_, Iwaizumi breathed out weak and defeated. _

***

Hanamaki rarely thinks about what he does, it has always been like that. He is simply an instinct kind of guy.

What he says, what he does, it all follows the impulse his guts give him. Even in court, he never starts a trial with a plan. He likes to see how the mood swings and then just go with the flow, steer his boat into the current, that will get him closest to his goals.

That is how he has managed to earn an outstanding reputation as a lawyer, how he never disappoints and never gets disappointed. If you don’t have a fixed goal, you can’t miss it!

Especially in his youth, people have criticized him for lacking both spine and motivation and to be totally honest:  _ They were right _ .

Takahiro isn’t ambitious, he isn’t high-flying and he certainly isn’t pretentious. But that doesn’t mean he can’t be sharp, intelligent or determined.

In fact, he is  _ very _ determined  _ right now _ !

“ _ Come on _ ”, he grunts out, putting all his body weight into the push.

“This tickles”, Iwaizumi smirks, that arrogant asshole.

“Fu..  _ fuck _ you, Hajime”

“Are you even  _ trying _ ?”

Hanamaki chooses not to spit into his face and rather concentrate on breathing.

“This is ridiculous”, he can’t help but whine all but a minute later.

“ _ God _ , I am getting so horny”, Oikawa has the nerve to bite down on his knuckles. Suga gracefully decides to put his hand over their friend's eyes.

“Then think of something gross”, he informs him.

“Like what?”

“Dead animals? How your bleach rails smell in the morning?”, Issei offers and gives his pan an expert swing. The onions fizzle and Hanamaki has to gag.

“Please just shut up”, he whimpers, the muscles in his biceps about to burst. He is going to leave one hell of a gorry splatter on Issei’s couch.

“Then hurry and get this over with, Wok is almost done”, his partner calls over.

“With tuna?”, Iwaizumi turns his head towards the kitchen.

“Yes”

“ _ Fuck yeah _ ”, and with his face brightening up like a six-year-old’s, who has just been given permission to have unlimited candy for an entire week, Iwaizumi slams his hand into the table, like Hanamaki, putting all his effort into fending him off, isn’t even there and declares: “I’m starving!”

Takahiro groans and collapses over his weak and sore arm.

Yes, he follows his instinct but that by no means equals being calm and structured, like some people assume. No, most of the times it gets him into stupid, messy and fucking glorious situations. Like not being able to beat his friend at arm wrestling in over 16 years and still not being able to give it up.

“Noodle-Arms, get your ass up”

Hanamaki considers flipping them off, but his arm hurts a little too much, for the gratification to level out the pain and so he just groans something vaguely offensive into the glass surface of the table.

Then he hoists himself up and staggers over to the counter, Issei decided to put into his flat instead of an actual table to eat at, like a  _ normal _ person.

He jumps up into one of the highchairs and rubs at his strained wrist.

Oikawa puts two bottles of mineral water in the middle and Suga selects a good wine with his usual humming. Hanamaki is certain, that this is a new tune.

“New song?”, he asks thus and the silver-haired's face lights up, as he swiftly chooses a bottle and flicks a knife in his hand before he starts to cut off the foil seal. 

“Yes, but it’s just a melody so far”, he hums and proceeds to twist the corkscrew in.

“Have you heard anything new from your case?”, Tooru picks the chair opposite to Hanamaki, a big bowl of rice in hands and starts to distribute it to everyone's plates.

In the background the smell of tuna gets stronger, mixing with the spices and he can feel his mouth start to water as he answers. “Eh, not much - we made our point, now it’s up to the judge. But you know, county court, so the final verdict isn’t gonna be announced until the end of next week, maybe even later.”, he shrugs. 

His current case wasn’t a big one. Christmas, boy that was a different story, but this was peanuts and he is less than mildly interested in the exact outcome. 

Iwaizumi joins them at the counter, Issei at his heels, balancing the still hot wok. The former places a trivet in the middle and the later sets the hot utensil down into the metal bowl.

“Ah, this smells delicious”, Suga snuffles over the food, humming dreamily, then he takes a big spoon and starts shovelling food on top of his rice pile.

One after the other they follow his example, idle chatter and laughter floating through the room.

“ _ Thanks for the food _ !”

Yes, Hanamaki is not a man of ambitions, but he is one of great determination and when they sit like this and he thinks back to all the blood, tears and scars, to all the fights and the hurting, to all the struggles and nights, they have spend sleepless, to every angry lash, to every pained cry, they had fought their way through in order to stay together like this, then he knows it was worth it!

He chuckles into his wine as Suga and Matsun crackle up over Iwaizumi having a piece of paprika stuck to his cheek and Oikawa trying to brush it away without him noticing.

He leans his chin on his fist and grins.

Yeah, just because he picks his battles very sporadically, doesn’t mean he won’t fight the ones he chooses to the very last drop of blood.

“Oh, by the way”, Suga muffles through a mouth of food, then he swallows. “I met Kaede today - she wants you to be her driver sometime next month”, and he gestures his chopsticks at Iwaizumi.

“She does realize I have a  _ job _ ? I can’t just take off and play driver for her!”, Iwaizumi asks overstrained, still not having noticed the food stuck to his face.

Tooru makes quick procession with his husband holding still, grabs his chin and kisses the paprika off his cheek, before acting like nothing happened while the other gives him a confused look.

“ _ Oh boy _ ”, Matsun smirks, by far the most civilized in his eating manners.

“She  _ knows _ and ordered me to relay: She  _ doesn’t care _ and you don’t have a choice because if you don’t then-” and he snaps his fingers while clicking his chopsticks together, imitating scissors.

Iwaizumi stills, his face rather pale, instinctively taking one hand down to protect his crotch, face scrunched up in phantom pain.

Hanamaki chokes on his vegetables, as he tries desperately to stifle his laughter.

“Well, if she wants it so badly, she will have to  _ come and get it _ !”, Oikawa declares, reaching over to grope at his husbands best piece.

Iwaizumi yips and a flush shoots up his neck and face.

“We’re eating, Tooru”, Issei deadpans, then he takes another bite and mumbles. “And trust me - you are  _ not _ an obstacle to her!”

Hanamaki crackles like a hyena.  _ Oh sweet, sweet universe, what did I do to deserve your glory!? _

“Hate to say it, but this  _ is _ your life now”, Suga agrees, not without a mischievous turn to his lips.

Their friend groans and buries his face in his hand. If in despair or because his husband's hand is still between his legs, Takahiro can’t tell. Maybe both. With these two it’s  _ usually both _ .

“I mean it’s not that bad. Honestly, I expected a striptease or something of the sorts”, Takahiro teases and takes a sip of wine.

“Shut up,  _ Noodle-Arms _ ”

“How about  _ ‘No’ _ , Mr Driver”

Issei is trying so hard to hide his big fat smirk, he drops half his next portion into his lap and Suga, quaking in silent laughter, almost knocks over one of the water bottles in his attempt to reach over and help him pick it up.

The whole thing results in a lot of shoving and plenty of giggles.

Eventually, they calm down and finish their food, Iwaizumi sulking, Tooru sulking too, since his hand has been banned from under the table, and the rest of them in varying states of amusement.

“Well  _ sue me _ -”, Oikawa beginns.

“Can be arranged”, Takahiro deadpans and gets swatted from across the table.

“-if I want my wedding sex!”, the other finishes.

“You haven’t yet? Wow, I am  _ disappointed _ ”, Matsun scolds them with a shiteating grin.

“And since when are you interested in details?”, Iwaizumi raises his eyebrow.

Their tall one shrugs, gracefully munching down on another bite. “ _ I _ already had sex”, he then announces casually.

Oikawa gapes at him. “The  _ audacity _ !”, he whispers.

Hanamaki smirks and offers his palm out over the table. They high five. Suga sighs but with a little eyebrow waggling he too is bullied into giving him one.

“Iwa-Chan, I  _ can not _ accept this!”

“And what exactly do you want me to do?”

“Bathroom,  _ now _ !”

“No”, Issei deadpans before Iwaizumi can do it. “Last time you broke my mirror”

“We bought a new one”, Oikawa makes a pejorative grimace, as if the cost had been the problem.

“What  _ exactly _ did we have noted down as violation fee for the  _ Coitus-Declaration _ again?”, Suga mumbles, more to himself than to them and pulls out his phone.

“Frosted chocolate cake from the  _ Swiss Factory _ \- one per unwilling witness”, Hanamaki tells him on the top of his head. He was the one who certified their bullshit family-constitution after all.

Suga halts and thinks for a moment, then he turns to his brother: “Let them have it Issei, I am craving for that bitch!”

“ _ Yes _ !”, Oikawa pumps his fist into the air.

“No”, and now Iwaizumi and Matsun are perfectly in sync.

“ _ Swiss Factory _ is already closed”, the later adds and checks his wristwatch.

“ _ That _ was the crucial argument for you?”, the former gapes in disbelief.

Issei shrugs again. “I’m a sucker for frosted cake and you know it”

“Why isn’t there a  _ cream puff cake _ ?”, Takahiro laments.

“Oh, we could try making one some time again!”, Suga chimes up, chin resting contently in his palm.

“Because last time went so well”, Matsun mumbles.

“It  _ was _ fun”, Suga shots him down.

“We ate it in pieces”, Oikawa reminds them.

“I still don’t know how we got it to  _ explode _ ”, Iwaizumi wonders aloud.

“We never should have let either of  _ you _ into my kitchen”, Hanamaki pointedly dares their freshly wedded couple with his chopsticks.

“Like you are one to talk!”, their buff one snorts. “You managed to fuck up  _ rice _ !”

“That was an  _ entirely _ unrelated incident!”, Hanamaki calls out. Because  _ seriously _ . It  _ had _ been. But it’s not like his friend is really all that wrong. They are all stereotypical gorillas, lots of brawns, little to no brain when they need it and certainly  _ no _ culinary skills. Other than wine tasting perhaps.

“You are  _ all _ walking liabilities”, Issei informs them rather deadpan.

“Come on, let’s give them another few chances. I don’t have enough kitchen disaster pictures for a new album yet!”, Suga snickers.

“ _ Hey _ ”, Oikawa lazily flicks a rice grain across the table, lips turned into a fine smirk.

With the wedding and everything they have been sitting on one another quite a lot recently, but that is not always the case. There are times they rarely see each other, when Tooru is jumping from one job to the other, constantly on the road, when Suga works his big projects and doesn’t see the sun for days, when Issei is on night shift and spends his days sleeping it off or when Takahiro himself devotes his time to the library, on the hunt for quirky legislation and loopholes that might benefit one of his chancellery's more finicky cases. Yes, there were times they met every day for lunch and sometimes he didn’t see them in weeks with the exception of volleyball or evening like these.

Dinner night, every second Sunday. It was a fixpoint they all needed for guidance and that they clung to, even when they were all still slightly wasted from the previous night and their bodies were aching for their pillows. Their minds desired each others company, craving family and wholesomeness.

Oikawa yawned, rubbing at his eyes and he leaned against his husband's shoulder.

“How did breakdown go?”, he mumbles.

“Well, Kaede took care of the last check over. She send me home because  _ someone _ made sure I look like I’ve been mauled by a racoon!”, Suga tells him, sending a pointed look across the table.

He is wearing a turtleneck but Hanamaki has a _very_ _clear_ picture of how his neck looks. Yeah.. _oops_.

He flicks him a lazy grin and a peace sign.

The other rolls his eyes but he is not half as pissed as he wants them to believe. Takahiro can tell by how relaxed Suga is. If he was actually bothered by his marks, he wouldn’t be so easy about it. He never is - bothered he means.

“Oh and by the way, who is coming on Friday?”, their silver-head asks.

“Tetsu-Chan told me he’d be coming. Said something about trying to drag Kenma-Dear out as well. Other than that the usual suspects. Keji and Bo-Chan, Saru I think, oh and Shigeru-Chan said he was coming along too. Rest is still in the open I guess”, Tooru counts on his fingers.

“ _ Great _ ”, Suga claps his hands, “Because I told Daichi he could come too”

Hanamaki is rather certain, that if Issei had held something in his lanky fingers, then it would have slipped them and shattered dramatically on the floor. Unfortunately, his hands are empty and so they have to make do with his expression derailing and imagining the sound of breaking dishes.

Suga seems weirdly unfazed about it.

Oikawa’s jaw is hanging wide open and Iwaizumi too looks rather confused. Hanamaki lets out a humming breath, to release the surprise.

His friends regain their poker faces just as quickly as they slipped them.

“Lovely”, Oikawa claps, maybe a little  _ too _ cheerful. “The more the merrier!”

That was unexpected!

And here they were thinking their friend would slow-burn for the next century! But maybe this was going to be less painful than they feared. Then again… maybe this was going  _ too _ quickly and Takahiro had his own stakes at risk in this one.

He still isn’t certain how he feels about the Flowers Guy. It isn’t that he dislikes him. He is just so stiff and… stiff. And hiding something from them! Takahiro can always tell when they are hiding things. It is something he has learned early on in his first years as a rookie lawyer, to know exactly if someone is lying or even just not telling the full truth. But another additional sense he has developed, far earlier in life, is a little set of mental bells.  _ Alarm Bells _ . And none of them is ringing at him when he’s around Sawamura. So who knows. Maybe it’s just something silly or embarrassing he is keeping to himself. Maybe he has yet to step out of the closet. It  _ is _ possible. They will find out sooner or later, either once he tells them by himself or they have him strapped to a chair, hanging upside down over a bonfire shaking the damn guy until he spills it! Not like they haven’t done that before. 

He looks over to Issei who still has a sour turn to his eyes but the rest of his face is back to relaxed and content. Probably overthinking it again, the  _ idiot _ !

Hanamaki sighs and jumps up, tearing the table from the momentary silence. “Alright, anyone wanna lend me a hand with these?”, and he lifts his dirty plate, questioningly.

“ _ Cook _ ”, Matsun winds his way out. Okay -  _ fair point _ .

“Already had to do your job, while you kept sleeping, once today!”, Suga crosses his arms.  _ Yeah yeah, alright! _

“Sorry, no time. Still gotta have sex before midnight!”, Tooru hums.  _ Oh, bullshit! _

“ _ Bullshit _ Tooru, get your ass up!”

“Damn  _ right _ I will”, the little shit smirks.

Seeking for help Takahiro looks over at Iwaizumi who just grins at him, just as shiteating and flashes his ring at him. “Still wedding day”

Whatever he said about family and how he will fight for these dirty bastards? Scratch it, he hates all of them!

“ _ Fuck you _ , you shitty brats!”, he grumbles and proceeds to collect the dishes in solitude.

***

The room is dark, stuffy and mostly silent.

Suga can’t help but smile as he tiptoes over to the window and tilts it open as silently as possible.

Iwaizumi groans softly and Suga _freezes_. His friend turns a little but he seems to be still sleeping.

He exhales slowly and sneaks over to the couch, lowers onto his knees and reaches out to run his fingers through dark hair, shushing him gently.

Koshi had sort of _expected_ to find the flat in a state of chaos and clothes throws everywhere but he had still believed his friends to eventually make it to their bedroom or _at least_ the sofa. Considering he found them sleeping on the floor right next to it, he had been wrong. _Well, at least they tried._

Hajime groans again, then he curls in, pressing his face closer against Tooru’s collarbone and Suga feels warmth sprout in his chest.

He takes the knitted blanket, that is pooling somewhere around his friend's hips and pulls it up to tuck them in neatly, but _not_ before taking a picture. Then he gets another and spreads it over them wide to make it more comfortable.

If these two knew how _cute_ they looked sleeping like this, they would probably combust and deny the existence of the entire universe _itself_. Suga can’t wait for the third volume of his album with sleepy pictures to be completed. He only needs a few more good ones, so this is practically _gold_ to him. It _would_ be _platinum_ if Tooru _didn’t_ have angry bite marks covering his chest and hips and Iwaizumi’s back _wouldn’t_ look like he’d been tied up with barbed wire. _When will they learn to be a little gentler!?_ Suga sighs softly, petting over both their heads.

Then he returns to the window, closing the blinds tightly. He proceeds to send his picture to Matsun: _“Frontpage worthy?”_, he texts along.

He makes sure to set the flowers into a nice vase and scribble down a little note for his friends before he leaves the apartment silently.

“Thanks for waiting”, he is a little breathless when he jumps into the passenger seat of the van and Daichi grins at him.

“Would have been stupid if I’d just left with my _own_ flowers!”, he chuckles, then he turns to the street, looking for an opening in the traffic. “Where to next?”

Suga's cheeks heat up, but he forces himself to take a deep breath. To be honest, he had been _stupid_. This had all been a very, _very_ stupid idea. He owned _neither_ a _car_, never mind a _drivers licence_ and he hadn’t even thought that _maybe_ there would be too many flowers to carry by hand!

In his head he hadn’t spent _a single thought_ about how to distribute his little presents and so, standing in the back of the flower shop he had run headfirst into a bit of a problem. In all fairness, he hadn’t anticipated Daichi putting so much _effort_ into his favour either. Sugawara expected a bunch, maybe two, that he could pluck flowers from and leave them for his friend, not that the other would actually bind them into a dozen tiny bouquets.

“Oh um, Bo and Akaashi’s place. Do you know the _McDonald’s_ at the _Samurai Monument_?”, Suga looks at the little list he made himself.

“They live at a _McDonald’s_?”, Daichi raises his eyebrow.

Suga couldn’t hold back a snort. “_No_, even though I am sure Bokuto would _love_ it! They live a block behind but these one-way streets are a bit tricky, so just head the general direction and then I’ll direct you”, he grins.

“Ay Ay _Sir_!”, Daichi salutes and Suga bumps his fist into his biceps.

“Oh _stop it,_ you!”

When he had been standing there, looking at the two boxes and realization had hit him, that he didn’t think this through, Daichi had offered to drive him.

“I need to get a few things anyway so… if you _erm_, want me to”

Suga had been _certain_ this would end up an embarrassing and awkward disaster, but strangely enough it _wasn’t_. So far at least!

They were doing uncommonly fine. _Especially_ considering the end of their last conversation. Maybe they were just mutually repressing it. Or _maybe_, Sugawara dared to hope, Daichi had _really_ taken it as a _just-friends-thing_. Yes, this was fine, all good, no reason to panic, nothing awkward!

Apart from Sugawara sweating himself _to death_ in his trenchcoat over the turtleneck and packed into _two_ scarfs. Hiding bitemarks and soothing the self-loathing _like a pro_! Maybe he should write a book!?

“You know, now I _really_ owe you”, he chuckles. “I hope you agree with a lot of drinks”

And _yep_ \- _that_ was the one too many. _Now_ it was awkward.

_ For fuck's sake Koshi! _

Daichi grins shily. “Depends on what you define as _‘a lot’_”

“Do I hear a challenge?”, Suga crooks his eyebrow before he can stop himself. _Oh my god, what is wrong with me? Brain quit the crap!_

Daichi laughs and stops at a red light. Suga keeps his eyes fixated on traffic. He knows he will lose it as soon as he starts looking at Daichi in his shirt, with his biceps and his ruffled hair and, oh my god, _why_?

He had been doing _so well_ up until now, so _why_? Yes, this must be _reverse psychology_! The better he _thought_ he was doing the worse it _actually_ got. But what to do about it?

“Oh heavens _no_”, Daichi shakes his head and laughs. “I’d like to keep at least_ a little bit_ of my dignity.”

Suga leans back in his seat and decides to focus on his list.

“Oh trust me, if you want dirt on anyone, this will be the _perfect_ chance”, he tells him.

Koshi can feel the other's eyebrows rise, but Daichi doesn’t say anything, just chuckles under his breath.

“They are like a bunch of _giant toddlers_. With _no_ exception!”, Suga goes on.

“Oh and what about _you_?”, Daichi grins and looks over at him.

“To _society_, I am the single-mom, struggling to keep my twenty babies from killing themselves by accident, but in _reality_”, and he lowers his voice, wiggling his fingers mysteriously, “I am the _lead disaster_!”, and laughs.

Daichi snorts loudly: “Sound like a mediocre soap, that’s airing at two in the afternoon”, he smirks.

Suga buries his face in his palms. “Oh god please _never_ say that when Tooru is present. He might actually try to pitch that!”

Daichi laughs loud and deep, the air vibrating and rumbling in his throat. 

“Oh, Daichi, _Daichi_, Daichi, next right! _Sorry_, I forgot”, Suga jerks up when familiar streets fly past them and he hastily sits more upright.

His companion steers _hard_ right, squeezes them into the diverting lane and offers an excusing gesture to the combi that he cut off in the process.

“_Sorry_!”, Suga gasps again.

They arrive at the building in question without further incident and mostly silent, only interrupted by Sugawara’s occasional instructions.

“Why do all your friends own prime estate?”, Daichi sighs as he glances up the mineral white building with the large windows reflecting and breaking the sunlight like no science-fiction movie could portray it.

Suga laughs. “Oh, I think you haven’t had a _proper_ sample yet. And trust me, if it wasn’t for Akaashi, Bo would probably have to crash on Kuro’s couch and Kenma would have long murdered him!”

“_That_ bad?”

“He’s a _real dork_ and gets _way_ too excited _way_ to easy. It’s usually really refreshing but a bad combo in his pay grade”, he explains and opens his door. “Show him pictures of sad puppies and he will give you all his cash if you promise to care for them."

Daichi patiently waits while Suga picks another bouquet and then sprints inside.

His friends aren’t home but he didn’t really expect anything else at this time of day. Akaashi often times works from home but today he seems to be out on a job and Bokuto has training. So he leaves the flowers at their doorstep and just because _he can_, he returns to the building with a second and hands it to the nice concierge.

“You know, I just _realized_, considering the next stop I should have saved the fancy ones for later, but I guess it’s too late now”, he snorts as soon as his seatbelt is fastened again.

“_Kuro_?”, Daichi crooks his eyebrow.

“_Jep_”

And the other laughs deep and rumbling. “Oh, _trust me_, I am used to it”

“You _haven’t_ seen him in combination with Kenma yet”

“It can get _worse_?”

“_Definitely_!”

And Daichi makes a doubtful face, that gets Suga to snort into his hand.

“Daichi, I umn… I was _wondering_. You never met Kenma-San, _didn’t you_?”, he then asks carefully.

“Oh, erm _yeah_. I mean, _no_, I haven’t!”, Daichi clears his throat. 

For a moment they sit in silence until Suga, fidgeting with his hands adds a careful. “_Why_?”

Daichi doesn’t answer for a moment, concentrating on traffic and just as he thinks the other either didn’t hear him or he managed to upset him, he sighs and scratches his neck.

“Unfortunate series of events I guess. I mean it was all pretty much set in stone but then my dad had an accident at work, was in the hospital and yeah. We thought about just changing the dates but then with graduation and exams and all that it just… _slipped_ into oblivion I guess”, he shrugs.

Suga hums thoughtfully.

“Saints, _way_ to kill the mood”, Daichi eventually sighs and his lips curl up a little.

“Oh, that was _nothing_ yet. If you ever get Tooru stoned enough, I promise you are in for a really intense philosophy lecture and a bumpy ride to _sadsville_”, he smirks.

Daichi raises his eyebrows.

“Is _that_ the leverage you were talking about? Should I take notes?”

Suga laughs wholeheartedly.

“I doubt you’ll ever get close enough but if you feel like it: Issei is _real_ ticklish”, Suga thinks out loud.

Daichi’s face derails hard. “_Yeah_. I think I’ll sit _that one_ out”, he grunts and the sting to his pressed voice doesn’t go unnoticed.

Suga clenches his teeth. _God damn it Matsun!_

Two intersections later he dares a glance over at Daichi. 

“_Sorry_”, the dark-haired mumbles just as Suga opens his mouth.

“For what?”

“I… I _know_, he’s like a brother to you. I think we just… don’t _match_ or whatever”, Daichi breathes out.

Suga clenches his hands and his knuckles _pop_. The sound is loud and echoes through the driver's cabin.

“He’s not _like_ a brother, Daichi. He _is_ my brother!”, the other looks over at him and Suga returns his questioning gaze with a determined look, “And I _know_ he can be an _ass_! But… he needs time to get used to new people”, he then admits reluctantly. _Especially people I have a massive crush on._

But he doesn’t say that one out loud.

For a moment they hold up the eye contact, then Daichi nods and focuses back on the traffic.

“_Okay_. I’ll do my best”, he says honestly.

“Thank you”, and with a relieved smirk Suga bumps their shoulders. “And if he doesn’t quit the scary attitude, tell me. _I’ll_ take _care_ of it”

Daichi _snorts_.

Kuro isn’t home, but Kenma is. Suga calls him and his friend muffles: _“I’ll come down”_, in a voice that leads Suga to believe he just woke up.

Once he sees him, he is _certain_, Kenma really did just wake up!

“Hey”, he tucks at his Pikachu jumpsuit and rubs his eyes, then glances at Daichi suspiciously.

“Hello”, Daichi waves at him curiously but warmly.

“You _know_ I could have come up, _right_!?”, Suga raises his eyebrows, then leans out of the window and stares down. “You are _barefoot_”

Kenma follows his gaze a little slow, then his heads turns back up and he looks him dead in the eyes. “I am”

Suga sighs and hands him the flowers. “Get inside before you catch a cold. _Geeze_ Kenma, it’s _mid February_!”

Kenma sniffs them, the few strands that have slipped out of his messy bun falling over his eyes.

“Can you eat these?”, he asks.

“Oh my God, _no_! Are you even awake?”

“_Eh_, shame”, Kenma sniffs at them again, but the sparkle in his eyes is enough of a tell he likes them very much. “Don’t know.”

Suga shakes his head. Well, it’s not like _he_ is any better!

“Why did you even come _down_ here?”

“Kuro said he’d block the WiFi if I didn’t go outside. Now I’ve been outside,_ attested by witness_”, Kenma shrugs.

“Can’t you just _hack_ it?”, Suga asks.

“In under a minute, but you know, he gets all _whiny_ when I do it and it’s unnerving”

Suga laughs and Daichi behind him snorts.

Kenma leans a bit to the side, sparing him furrowed eyebrows, then he brushes back his loose hair and clicks his tongue. “So _that’s_ what Kuro meant… well, I really don’t have the energy for _this_ level of pinning - _nice catch though_. See you Koshi!”, and with a lax, unenergetic wave he turns and lumbers back to the door, the yellow and black zig-zagged tail of his jumpsuit wagging with every step.

Suga flushes bright pink. “_Kenma_!”, he whines.

Damn them all. Why does he only have such useless friends!?

If things go on like this he will have to ask _Tendou_ for advice! He is starting to get _that_ desperate!

_ Speaking of which. _

He takes a deep breath and tries to tune down the colour in his face, blame it on the cold weather and straightens his back.

“He is… _umn_… not really what I _expected_”, Daichi smiles as he leans forward. “But _nice_”

“I’ll ask you again after the next game night. _He is the devil_!”, Suga sighs gently. “Daichi, I actually forgot _one_ more prime estate stop”, he then fidgets.

“Will I meet the president?”, Daichi crooks his eyebrows.

“The _governor,_ actually”, Suga chuckles nervously.

“_Old news_ and I thought this would be _exciting_”, Daichi rolls his eyes fondly. “I’m seriously _disappointed_, Sugawara. Now you really owe me, for wasting my time like this”

Suga's chin drops in surprise, then a devilish grin sneaks up his face and he huffs out in fake indignation.

“If anything, _you_ owe _me_, for being allowed to stand in my presence”, he drapes his hand over his chest and does his best Tooru imitation.

“Right”, Daichi shakes his head with a giggle. 

“This is the part where you fall to your knees, Daichi”

“Sure, _while driving_”

“I’ll just _imagine_ it then”, and _oh boy!_ That was the _wrong_ one! Because Suga can just in time clasp his hand over his nose before a thick drop of red has the chance to bloom on his coat.

“_Fuck_!”, he muffles and Daichi looks over concerned, then his eyes turn large.

“Oh _shit_, Suga. There are tissues somewhere, _fuck_, where did that come from!?”

_From the picture of you kneeling in front of me, eyes lidded and dark and_... and … Suga lets out a choked noise and fumbles out a tissue from his bag. Damn, that was a _strong_ mental image - one that he needs to _ban right now!_  
They drive in silence, only interrupted by Suga fumbling out new tissues and Daichi’s worried glances.

_Gods_, he prays Tooru _never_ learns about this!

“Do you, _umn_, have that a lot?”, Daichi eventually asks when Suga folds down the indoors mirror and taps away the last red smears. He tries to check his scarf as _discreetly_ as possible, not wanting to pull it down too far.

Koshi grunts something incomprehensible before he reconsiders. “_Sometimes_”, he twangs, nose still clogged up._ Lately more often than usual, because my life sucks and I am really desperate for attention I won’t get!_

“But it’s not bad and usually over pretty fast”, he sighs. It’s still pretty obvious that he had a nosebleed but at least he isn’t dripping like a broken pipe anymore.

“_Good_. I mean, it’s _not good_ but like… that it doesn’t _last_ long. Yui has that too sometimes”, Daichi mumbles.

“Not. _A_. _**Word**_!”, Suga gnashes and dares the man with the sandy bangs with an intense glare.

Shirabu just raises his sharp eyebrows and taps his foot. Then he puts his hand onto his hip and clicks his tongue judgingly, eyes skimming over Daichi, then Suga, gaze lingering on his nose, then sliding down to his excessive neck-wrapping.

Of course, they had to run into the _one_ person Suga is not in the mood to deal with, only ten metres into city hall.

“Oh _well_”, he shrugs. “The less I know, the _better_”

Suga growls something about _‘What the hell did I just say!?’_ to himself and flicks back his hair. By the way, the other eyebrows begin to twitch he knows his little provocation is working.

“Girls, _Girls_ you are _both_ pretty”, someone crackles from behind them and Tendou swaggers down the hallway, balancing two cups of something steaming.

“_Everyone_ is, compared to _you_”, Shirabu wrinkles his nose at his colleague.

“_Kenjiro-Chan-Chan_, you _wound_ me”, and Tendou turns to nestle his chin over Sugas head.

“You have exactly _three_ seconds to get off me Satori!”, Koshi informs him.

He can feel the other shrug and sigh deeply. Then, to Sugas horror he actually straightens up, takes a step to the side and drops his chin back down on _Daichi's_ head, who goes stiff as a salt pillar.

He facepalms. _Oh_. _My_. **_God_**.

He must be making a face because Daichi is staring at him with big eyes, mouthing: _Help_.

Okay, _okay_, **_okay_**, _emergency imminent!_

“Shirabu, a little _help_ please”, Suga beckons. Tendou is still holding two cups of something very hot and he doesn’t want to punch him as long as he might risk spilling said _something hot_ over Daichi.

He is regretting this! What _ever_ made him think, it was a good idea to introduce Daichi to his … let’s call them _less_ _presentable_ friends!?

“What are you doing here anyway? Did you get kicked out?”, Shirabu sighs, then he walks up to them and takes both beverages out of Tendou’s hands. _Perfect_.

Suga's fingers stab the redhead right beneath the ribs and with a loud _yip_, he jumps away.

The sandy-haired meanwhile examines both cups with scepticism, takes a sip out of each, let’s the taste linger on his tongue for a second each, then he picks the left and hands the other back to Tendou.

“Thanks for nothing”, he sighs but accepts his fate, drinks a few gulps of his own before leaning laxly against the wall. “And _nay_, I didn't get banned from court. Not with words, _no no_”, he wiggles his index finger.

Shirabu and Suga raise their eyebrows simultaneously, while Daichi is quick to bring as much distance between him and the redhead as the hallway allows him too.

“_Not with words?_ And that is supposed to mean?”, Suga prompts.

“_Oh_ Wakatoshi-Kun in getting really good at that _eyebrow_ _thing_ Chan-Chan is teaching him”, Tendou elaborates, with Shirabu gnashing his teeth very loudly in the background.

“I will show you _‘Chan-Chan’_”, he mutters under his breath, before returning to his signature, hand on hip pose and grudge turns into smug superiority. “Well, I _am_ an amazing teacher”

“I just wish he wouldn’t practice on _me_. It’s starting to _frighten_ me”, and the redhead shivers, then he draws his eyebrows together so hard, they form a single, _thick_ line, squares his shoulders and continues in the deepest voice he can manage: _“What was there first: The chicken or the egg?”_

Suga snorts into his elbow before he knows and Tendou rewards them the most wolfish grin, before falling back into character. _“The issue of excrements left by the common goldfish in public ponds is one of the greatest challenges of our time”_

He loosens, takes another sip from his cup, before adjusting posture and continuing: _“Tendou, that is no proper place to sit”_

Suga needs to take _shallows_ breaths or he knows he will burst into giggles. Shirabu is hiding his amusement better but he too is a little too tense and that gives away how close he is to laughing.

Their redhead seems to have noticed because now he is actively targeting his friend as he goes on: _“Shirabu, I would like to request for you to record the volleyball game at five”_

The other cringes back. “Oh heavens, _stop it_, this is _freaking_ me _out_”

Tendou brightens up, gesturing wildly, the beverage in his hand sploshing _dangerously_ and especially Daichi eyes the cup warrily.

“_Nice to know where our legislation comes from_”, he mumbles mostly to himself, but it’s enough to tip the scales for Suga and he can no longer hold back, as a very _graceless_ splutter wrenches its way up his throat.

And just that moment Tendou turns to them and his drawn eyebrows rise and _rise_ and _rise_ and _oh god_, practically _disappear_ in his hair. His face, however, stays entirely stern.

“_Fuck_, stop, _stop_! Okay,_ I get it_”, Suga reels back.

“I _know_ right. It’s _terrifying_. I fled in _horrors_”, the redhead shouts out, then he stills, arms up in the air, crooks his head to the side. “And maybe also because these endless meetings are _sooooooo_ boring”, and he deflates.

Shirabu leans his head to the side. “I… that is _not_ what I was trying to teach him!”, he then straightens things out.

“Well, what in tarnation's name _where_ you doing, that it ended like _this_?”, Satori’s chin drops a little. “Because he starts to do that _thing_ with his eyebrows and I can’t figure out _what_ it is and at this point, I am _too scared to ask!_”

“He wanted to have an asset to make people _shut up_ when he needs to think”, Shirabu shrugs, then he takes position and shots them a _smug_, _yet dirty look_ as if something _smelled bad_. “Like that”

Suga inhales sharply. “What _exactly_ did you tell him to do?”

“_‘Do it like Oikawa’_”

For a second there is silence, then Tendou flat out _facepalms into the wall_ with a loud groan while Suga burst into a borderline hysterical fit of loud laughter.

“_Chan-Chan!_”, the redhead wails. “_No!_”

Still shaking, tears welling up in his eyes, Suga staggers over to him, tucking the flowers he had been holding up until now into his hand, clapping him on the back. “_My condolences_”, he wheezes. “Will we be standing in your presence at the date of the following Friday or shall I visit you at thy gravestone?”

The other reaches out to flick him against the cheek but Suga dives under his hand skillfully, then he waves them a quick goodbye and drags Daichi, still laughing, away before things can escalate. “And tell Wakatoshi, I’ll check by on Thursday with what he asked for!”, he shouts over his shoulder.

“_You know_, the more I learn about the important people, the more I am _amazed_ this city is _not yet on fire_”, Daichi deadpans and the security personnel at the front door gives them a look.

“_Why?_”, they hear Tendou lament in the background, and Shirabu yell something, certainly very profane back at him.

Then the doors swing closed behind them and Suga is laughing freely, still clutching Daichi’s sleeve.

“You are _not_ the only one, trust me”, he grins widely, as he turns to Daichi, folds his hands behind him and walks backwards, so he can look at him, cheeks red and flushed from laughing.

And for a few moments, Daichi simply stares at him, expression soft, then he turns his face away, blood rising to his cheeks and he coughs into his hand.

“I’ll _never_ be able to pay my taxes without thinking of _goldfish poop,_ ever again!”, Daichi clears his throat. “And I’m blaming _you_ for it!”

Suga grins vividly, spins around his own axis, then he smashes his fist casually into the others shoulder. “Whatever makes you happy, _model citizen_” 

Daichi winces away, rubbing at his biceps but the roll to his eyes is fond.

***

_ “Tooru, I swear I will murder you!” _

Daichi wonders _just how much_ his perception of normal human conversation has decreased that he is walking up the stairs to the gym, hears something like _this_ and goes: _Yes, this is entirely normal!_

He is late and to be honest, considered not coming at all. Yui had _not_ been _happy_ when had eventually found his way back to the shop half an hour before closing time.

And in all fairness, he hadn’t expected to take _so long_. But time… _time_ was a_ funny thing_ whenever he was with Sugawara. Every moment felt so fast and energetic when they had been driving around when they had strolled the marketplace for the baskets Daichi had originally been tasked to buy and when they had decided to grab a bite to eat and ended at Suga’s favourite milkshake store afterwards. Every hour felt like a second, over too quickly and yet the moment Daichi had dropped him at his apartment block and checked his wristwatch, he had felt so drained, so tired, as if he hadn’t slept for days, with his cheeks _hurting_ from all the laughter and his biceps turning blue from all the times Suga playfully bumped it. Man, did he have a _mean punch_, but Daichi just _couldn’t_ bear to tell him. Suga just looked like he was enjoying himself _so much_, he couldn’t tell him to tone it down. He was physically incapable, his mouth forgetting how to speak and his brain ceasing to understand the concept of words every time he rubbed at his arm and caught sight of shining brown eyes, soft silver bangs and that cursed beauty mark that was making him so, _so_ _weak_!

Well, in conclusion, he had been out _way_ longer than expected and Yui, _in need of the car_, had been forced to wait for him. In retaliation, she had left close-up to him for the rest of the week and he couldn’t even be mad. He _could_ have texted her, he just… didn’t _realize_ it had gotten so late!

There was more shouting from upstairs, bringing him back to reality. _What could it be this time?_

The possibilities were _endless_. 

And so, Daichi was less surprised and more _optically_ _challenged_, when he found the gym upside down. Or at least most of the population.

_ This… isn’t volleyball. Not even remotely! _

“_Hey hey hey_!”, the loud hooting that greets him is unmistakable, even if the source is walking the wrong way round, waddling around on his hands.

“Hey”, Daichi answers sceptical, then he looks around.

Bokuto isn’t the only one enjoying acrobatic endeavours. Oikawa, that explains the shouting, Hanamaki, Suga, Komi and Watari are all following his example, herded by an unnerved looking Iwaizumi and Akaashi at the brink of a nervous breakdown. 

_Slowly_ Daichi leaves his shoes at the door and circles them to drop his bag.

“Did I miss something?”, he asks Kuro, leaning against the wall over by the benches, talking with Reon.

“No, just the usual”, his friend gives him a shiteating grin and Daichi rolls his eyes. Well, it’s not like that wouldn't _also_ be true. But _still_.

“_Great_, then I assume I can go home?”, he raises his eyebrows as he shakes hands with Ohira and then crosses his arms over his chest.

Kuro groans. “_My god_, would it _kill_ you to be _less of a dad_ for just _five_ minutes?”

Daichi can feel his eyebrow begin to twitch.

“Oikawa slipped and his knee is hurting, so he is avoiding to put pressure on it -”

“By _walking on his hands_?”

“- and the rest kind of just happened”

“_Alright then_”, Daichi inhales deeply._ This is normal_, repeat: _This is entirely normal and I have not ended in a psychiatry._

“He is aware, he could just… _sit down_, right?”

“_Good luck_ trying”, Reon mumbles with a gentle smile.

“Well someone _should,_ before Akaashi gets a heart attack”, Daichi prompts them pointing over at the dark-haired following his partner, mumbling under his breath.

“_He’s gonna fall and knock out his teeth… again, I can’t deal with that. Calm down Keiji, he isn’t a toddler anymore, oh who am I kidding, he’s gonna fall on his face any second, any second now!_”, all while nervously fidgeting with his fingers.

Bokuto seems to be unfazed by it all as he and Oikawa have taken up a race to see which one of them is faster. Now Daichi notices that the brown-haired has replaced one of his knee pads with a white one._ A supporter_, he realizes.

“I will _murder_ him, if he _falls,_ I will _murder_ him”, Iwaizumi grumbles, but the way his fingers twitch too and his eyes fixate his husband, him and Akaashi are a _perfect_ mirror of worry.

“Oh let them, it’s not like they don’t know what they are doing”, Kuro dismisses them. “And _besides_, I think you should rather check _that_ one out”, and he grins over to the corner.

For a moment Daichi isn’t certain _what_ he is looking at. Then it hits him and he is thankful beyond comparison _he_ doesn’t get nosebleeds. Well, aside from that one time their first-year setter had smacked a ball right into his face.

Suga is half-naked, his shirt having dropped around his shoulders and pooling at his chin, standing on his right hand, the left stretched out to the side, balancing him. The rest of his body is curved in a _smooth arch_, his pale stomach at a horizontal, feet centimetres above the ground, every muscle in his body quivering with tension and Daichi _swears_ he can see the sweat run down his biceps. He knows he is staring but he just never thought a human could be so… _flexible_ and.... _wow_.

And Daichi realises he has never before seen Sugawara topless. _Really_ seen him, not in the peripherals of his visions when changing.

The silver-haired may have a slender build, compared to his teammates, but that _doesn’t_ mean, he _isn’t_ an _athlete_. In fact and Daichi knows his heartbeat is reaching _critical_ levels by now, Sugawara seems to be no less than a one hundred percent sleek, perfectly toned muscles, strong as steel wires and formed as if build from white marble.

Pain jerks him back into reality. _Pain_ from someone _slapping_ his hanging jaws _shut_ and when he jerks back into his body, Matsukawa glares him down, _venom_ is his eyes. Then the tall one pointedly punts past them, deliberately _blocking_ Daichi's view of his brother.

“_Ouch_”, Kuro mumbles. 

Daichi’s heart is still beating too quick and his head feels like he’s gotten a heat stroke, as he rubs at his chin._ Ouch indeed!_

_Hot anger_ fights with _ice-cold embarrassment_ and his stomach churns.

He knows his face is redder than the national flag, when he takes deep yet shaky breath, turns and _glares_ at Kuro.

In between his crackles, the other has the decency to look at least a little guilty until Daichi has eventually stared him into the ground and he mumbles out a: “_Oh come one_, couldn’t know he was _right behind us_! And you _were_ staring -”

Daichi grumbles something.

Reon seems rather amused by their silent squabble.

And just as Daichi thinks he may refrain from committing _seppuku_ right here and now, _they_ have to show up and of course, _they saw_.

“Oh _boy_, smells like _someone_ is jealous”, Futakuchi sneers.

Kuro rolls his eyes.

Aone just looks down at them, then he nods sternly, before patting Daichi’s back in encouragement. “Noone should be judged for their best intentions. We all bear scars”, he speaks, deep and poetically, then he nods at them again and before anyone knows what is happening, he has dropped his bag and skillfully _flipped himself upside down _and is gracefully padding away on his hands, over to greet Hanamaki and Iwaizumi, who have started to bicker about something. Daichi is very much reminded of a _circus bear_. Dolly, but in a very aesthetic way and deeply fascinating.

“Okay”, Futakuchi mumbles slowly, looking after his friend, seemingly as confused as the rest of them. “You do you, buddy, _you do you_”

“Well at least _someone_ here has manners”, Kuro grunts, a little impressed and not without shooting Futakuchi a sharp look.

The others smile is sly and none the less aggressive. “I guess you should count yourself _lucky_ Sawamura, at least you didn’t yet get actually _punched_ in the face”, he then declares with a grand gesture.

“_What_?”, Daichi yips. Matsukawa _punched_ someone?

“I am certain, your _dear friend_, _Tetsuro_ here, can give you a _detailed_ report on the matter”, the brown-haired sneers with a pointed look over at the friend in question.

Daichi's yaw drops again. “He _punched_ you? _Why_?”

Kuro looks like he just ate something _very sour_. “So _first_ of all, it’s Kuro for you, _asshat_ and second: The first punch I _deserved_ and the second was an _accident_!”

“He punched you _twice_? _Why_?”, Daichi pushes.

“Not important and it was _only once,_ for fuck's sake - I _just_ said the second wasn’t on purpose!”

“Oh _wow_, you are _just cold_ \- Not only did you break up with him but now your relationship with Sugawara isn’t even _worth_ _talking_ about anymore. Shame on you, _Tetsuro_”, Futakuchi sneers, shaking his head in disappointment.

Daichi is frozen. “_What_?”, he ghosts the word out more than he speaks. “You...you were _together_?”

And now Kuro is visibly uncomfortable, scratching the back on his neck. “Alright, _listen_, it wasn’t a big deal. We dated for a couple of months, that was _years_ ago and we are _friends_ now. The breakup was mutual and today we just laugh about it._ It doesn’t matter anymore!_”, he sighs.

“Yeah, _right_”, Daichi doesn’t even know why he is so hurt by it when he bites this out. It’s not like he plans to make a move, damn he is focusing to do _the exact opposite_ of that! And yet… _Kuro and Suga were a thing_ and his old friend, with which he thought he’d reformed a good bond, didn’t bother to mention it, not even the _slightest_ bit.

“Well, I assume it was for the best. You have Pudding-Chan now and Koshi he… _which_ one was _the last_ he dumped?”, Futakuchi continues and pointedly scratches his chin in contemplation.

“You call him pudding _one more time_ and I swear _I_ will punch you, Kenji! Plus, this is _none_ of your business”, Kuro hisses.

“Hey what are you guys up too?”

Suga’s voice keeps Futakuchi from issuing a response and they all turn to look at the pale calves from a still upside-down silver head. 

“Nothing”, their prime pain in the ass chirps way to cheerful, “I was just wondering, what was the name of your last… _road gig_ was. These days it’s_ so hard_ to keep track”

Sugawara narrows his eyes and with a graceful flip he turns himself back the right end up. His shirt drops back over his ivory stomach and reveals the purple mess of his neck. _Hickeys and bite marks_, Daichi notices and his stomach _plumits_.

“Oh don’t worry Kenji, he’s too hot for you anyway so no need to worry, spare yourself the effort of trying”, Suga flicks back his bangs, face flushed and red, one hand settling on his hip.

Now it’s Futakuchis turn to look sour. 

“Though I am _not surprised_ you don’t remember, considering you got ditched by _three_ girls last year alone. All the names must strain your brain”, Suga goes on, casual and confident and Daichi would have snorted into his hand if his eyes wouldn’t be glued to the sheer _mass_ of bruises and the bad taste in his mouth wouldn’t drain every bit of happiness out of him.

“Aren’t we _funny_ today”, the brown-haired grits out, but he regains his arrogant demeanour in no time. “Well, we all have our little problems,_ don’t we_. I’m bad with names and you can’t seem to keep Hanamaki from biting, or are these from _big brother_? Oh, or let me guess - _another_ new one-nighter? Is it just my imagination or are you easy to have Sugawara? I am _intrigued_ to know”

The blood freezes in Daichi's veins, Kuros face goes pale and for a moment Suga looks like he’s been punched, the smile slides off his lips and his face turns cold.

“At least I have someone who wants me by their side. If _only_ there was someone who could bear _your_ presence longer than twenty minutes. Someone who is _easy to have_, oh wait ... **no**. Even _I_ have _standards,_ Kenji!” and spitting out these words like venom Suga turns on his heels and strides off across the gym.

“You _had_ to overdo it Futakuchi, _didn’t you_”, Kuro sighs, massaging his temple, staring after Sugawara.

Daichi doesn’t know what to think anymore. A part of him can’t help but be shocked, another is screaming that this is _none of his business_ and the third is still frozen.

Futakuchi shoots Kuro a snobby look over the tip of his nose as if this was all _their_ fault, then he clicks his tongue and struts off too.

Eventually, Iwaizumi puts an end to the general circus by intercepting Oikawa, grabbing him around the waist and throwing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, along some loud protest from said sack. "Go Kotarou, leave me behind, be free!", he yells. Kuro and Konoha eventually manage to catch up to and wrestle Bokuto to the ground despite the encouragement and once the two main chaos factors are removed the rest begins to assemble at the net to draw the first two teams.

Sugawara pointedly ignores _all three of them_ for the _entire_ evening and to be fair maybe that’s even a good thing because Daichi doesn’t snap out of his frozen state either. His body plays on instinct but his mind isn’t at the matter. He knows it’s _stupid_, he knows he _shouldn’t_, but his brain _can’t help_ but circle around what he learned about Sugawara. About his… _preferences_. And he can’t help himself but let his gaze wander, question who else in this room he had been with.

_It’s none of your goddamn business!_, he scolds himself repeatedly and then again, every high-five Sugawara deals out to Hanamaki and Matsukawa, _even to Kuro_ feels like a stab into his own chest.

Daichi leaves the second they decide to break up, he doesn’t linger to chat, doesn’t wait, just grabs his bag and slides into his shoes. And then he is gone, jumps down the stairs until finally the cold night air hits him like a hammer and he can take a deep, _shaking_ breath. 

What the hell is wrong with him? His hands are shaking, his heartbeat stuttering and he feels _way_ to warm. But not in a good way, rather in a stuffy, _clogged up_ kind of way that is choking him like he’s _breathing water_ instead of air.

He feels like he is going to have a panic attack and he _mustn't_! Not _here_, not _now_!

Move! _Move_, he tells himself. Run, _run_ until you shake it off!

“Hey, Sawamura! _Daichi_”, he hears the voice calling for him but he doesn’t react, just increases his pace up towards the bus stop.

“Sawamura _for fuck's sake_!”, and someone grabs him at his shoulder.

Daichi whirls around, the panic getting the better of him and he _lashes_ out.

“_Wow_!”, Kuro ducks just in time to avoid being hit in the face. “Hey, no reason to hulk out, okay, I _get_ your pissed!”

He is panting to heavily to make sense of those words and sounds and _noises_. _Too many noises_. 

Kuro. And here he stands, thinking he could trust him. Well, _wrong guess_.

“_Just_”, he has to take a break, trying to think straight and in complete sentences, “leave it be,_ I need to go home_!”, he grits out, rips himself free, quickly storming off.

“_Hey_!”, but the other doesn’t let him go, follows Daichi at his heel and damn that fucking _tree of a human_ with his insanely long legs, taking one step where Daichi feels like he needs three. “Can we _please_ just talk, okay?”

“I said _leave it be_ Kuro, there is _nothing_ to talk about!”, Daichi presses out in between his ragged breaths.

“_Hey_!”, and Kuro grabs him again, this time with more force. They are halfway up the street. “I’ma say this again: _I get that you’re pissed_ and _I’m sorry_ that I didn’t mention anything, I just _didn’t_ think it was _important_ because it _isn’t_ to me _nor_ Suga. But I was _wrong_ because clearly this is important to _you_ \- still, you’re still _overreacting_!”

Daichi can _barely_ keep himself from screaming: _I know that!_, at the top of his lungs. He needs to calm down and he needs to cut the hypocrisy! 

“I am _not pissed_. You are adults, you can do _whatever_ you want, it is _none of my business_ and now I _need to go_ home!”, he declares, hands clenched into fists, doing his best to sound calm and collected. Then he turns for the second time and stomps off, trying to walk at a reasonable pace, convincing _both_ _him_ _and_ _Kuro_ that he isn’t just dropping crap.

“_Oh quit the crap_!”

_For fuck's sake!_ Then again Kuro _never_ understood when to leave it alone.

“I’m _not_ dropping this _until you talk to me_, because this is getting _out of hand_! Kenma _told_ me you and Suga were on the way together and Iwaizumi said you’d be coming tomorrow too. So we are discussing this _now_ because frankly, your period of grace is _over_”, Kuro catches up to him again.

Daichi grits his teeth. _Tomorrow_. Club. _Fuck_!

“_Yes_, I _drove_ him because he needed a car. I did a favour for a friend. _Nothing_ else!”.... _nothing else_.

“A _friend_!?”, Kuro turns to him, raising a critical eyebrow.

“_Yes_”, Daichi grits out.

“Come on you don’t need to pretend. If anything maybe I can give you some advi -”

Now Daichi comes to a full stop, digging his heels into the few centimetres of snow still on the sidewalk. More is starting to fall, wet and cold. “Your _what_? _Advice_? On _Suga_? Quit _shitting me_ Kuro!”

“I’m _dead serious_, okay? I went through all this already, I can _help_!”, the bedhead says sincerely.

Daichi harrumphs in cynical disbelief. “Yeah, I _doubt_ that”, he snorts bitterly. _You have no idea_, but then again, he didn’t tell Kuro, he didn’t tell _anyone,_ because Daichi doesn’t _want_ to talk about it and so - _frankly_ \- he can’t be pissed at Kuro for not talking about his and Suga’s relationship. And yet _he still is_. Pissed. So, _so pissed_. At everyone, at everything. Mostly at _himself_.

“Great, if you don’t want me to help then at least tell me what you plan on doing! Are you gonna _quit_? Never come to training again? Just _ditch_ us? Because the Daichi I know would _never run_ \- he’d stand there and stare at his fears until his _fears are afraid of him_! I thought we were _friends_”

Daichi needs to take a very deep breath. _Friends_… _old_ friends, _new_ friends. Why did he _ever_ think this would be a good idea? Because _they don’t know your baggage_ and these new people could be a relief, could be friends _unbiased_ by his past.

He feels a cold shiver run down his spine and realises his jacket is open. With shaking hands he closes the zipper and flips up his collar. “I_ don’t know_, okay?”, he eventually presses out. Because _damn it_ \- Daichi can’t show the other his cold shoulder if he is _that_ serious. “I don’t know what I’ll do. I don’t even know what I _want_ so... “, he rakes his fingers through his hair with a sigh, wiping the wet snow from it. 

“Was that so hard now?”, Kuro pats his shoulder.

“Don’t tempt me to punch you _too_!”, Daichi sighs, shaking him off. Speaking it out loud has helped to still the shaking and lift the crushing weight off his lungs. A little at least - enough not to fear the imminent breakdown in the middle of the street anymore.

“Ah, I’m used to it. If it helps a friend”, the other shrugs with a sly grin.

“I mean _seriously_, _what is his problem_? Matsukawa’s”, Daichi knows it’s probably not the best idea to get himself worked up all over again, no less than _three seconds_ after his desperately needed cool down. But _somehow_ it is bugging him way too much to let it slide.

“Seriously, _I don’t know_. He’s actually a really nice guy just… when it comes to Sugawara he tends to overreact. In all fairness though, I _was_ an _asshole_ and I did deserve to be punched”

Daichi raises his eyebrow at him. “Not surprised in the least”

Kuro rolls his eyes. “Haha, thanks for the flowers”

“Well your boyfriend seemed to _like_ them”, Daichi mocks him, flexing his fingers around the strap of his bag, to relieve tension.

“He _did_, actually”, Kuro actually smiles and it’s soft as feathers.

Daichi can’t help but sigh gently. It hurts a little to see his friends so happy but then again he is also happy with them and the fact Kuro can still make these kinds of comments without that guilty twitch to his face like his old friends have it, it’s balsam on his soul right now. Balsam that _burns_ a little but _balsam nonetheless_.

“Don’t make the mistake of thinking it’s _just_ Issei-San”

They both jump a foot in the air as Akaashi speaks right behind them.

“Fucking gods _Keiji_, how are you so quiet!?”, Kuro wheezes, clutching at his chest.

The other gracefully dips his head to the side. 

Bokuto by his side looks between them, nodding very dutifully. “I know right, he’s _amazing_! Why did you two run away, are there ninjas trying to kill you?”, he declares very proudly, then his eyes turn big with concern.

“No Kotarou”, Kuro deadpans. “_No_ ninjas”

“Well maybe you just don’t _see_ them - they are _ninjas_ after all!”, Bokuto defends himself, voice lowered, looking left and right.

“Ninjas are _outdated_ Bo, we have the _NSA_ nowadays”, the dark-haired starts to elaborate.

“_Ooooooh_, yes you are right… maybe they are _NSA ninjas_!”, Bokuto thinks out loud.

“The NSA doesn’t need _ninjas_, they have our _browser histories_, that is enough leverage to make us commit suicide. Way more _cost efficient_ \- now back to Sugawara”, Konoha sighs and earns a critical look from everyone present.

“What do you mean?”, Daichi pulls a grimace.

“Oh, when it comes to Sugawara they are all just _batshit_ overprotective. _No idea_ why”, and the sandy-haired man walks past them with a shrug, pulling his scarf tighter. “And can we please discuss heartbreak and ninjas somewhere, where we _don’t_ all get _soaking_ _wet_?”, he proceeds, staggering further up the slippery hill.

Daichi and Kuro share a look, then they follow. 

“What are you doing here anyway?”, Kuro asks.

“We _all_ need the bus, you _imbecile_!”, Yaku declares with a whack aiming for his teammates hip.

_Oh yeah_… _right_.

“What do you mean?”, Daichi repeats, a bad feeling brewing in his stomach.

“You know Sawamura-San, you shouldn’t take all of this so serious. Matsukawa is like this with everyone for the first couple of months. As long as the rest isn’t out for your head you’re doing _fine_”, Akaashi blinks at him in something that _could_ be encouragement. He isn’t entirely certain though.

“What do you mean?”, he feels like he is a record player with a stuck needle.

“Oh, Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, Oikawa, that scary sister, _you know_”, Konoha counts down on his fingers, then shudders and stuffs his hand back into his pocket.

“I think I am repeating myself, but _what do you mean_?”, he starts to get frustrated.

“He _means_”, Bokuto starts - Daichi feels like he will have to ask again but he doesn’t want to be rude and cut him off before he can start, “That you don’t need to worry about your relationship with Koshi-San. You are doing _fine_. I mean no, you are _not doing fine_, you are a _disaster_, but you are _both_ a disaster so you equal each other's awkwardness out and it’s also _very cute_, and you shouldn’t listen to Futakuchi, he is an _idiot_”, wow that was surprisingly coherent.

“_Hey_, I _heard_ that!”, someone calls from behind them and Daichi feels his blood pressure skyrocket. _You gotta be fucking kidding me._

“_One_ word and you’re not going to see tomorrow!”, Kuro gnashes.

“Oh _please_, I am just trying to _help_ alright! He has a right to know what he is getting himself into!”, Futakuchi claims with an indicated huff.

“You were insensible earlier”, Aone rumbles, with his deep voice, padding at the very end of the group like a giant windshield.

“Not _you_ too”, the man with the brown bangs laments. “Is there _no reward for honesty_ these days!”

“Not if it's insensible”, Akaashi deadpans.

“And also stupid”, Bokuto chimes up.

“Haha, aren’t we funny today”, Futakuchi gnashes.

“I am not being _funny_!”, Bokuto looks like that would be the most absurd thing ever, “I mean _literally_ stupid! You seriously pissed Koshi-San off and one day soon you will wake up in a bathtub full of _tarantulas_ or something”

“He is right. That was not smart”, Aone nods.

Futakuchi doesn’t answer anymore, just looks sour and that alone is almost enough satisfaction for Daichi.

“Well back to the topic. You need to quit overthinking, that is _all_ we are saying!”, Kuro speaks up and pumps Daichi’s shoulder. “You are not doing half as bad as you think”

“Oh, _oh oh_, remember last spring at that bar we tried and this one guy called Koshi-San a ‘_fine piece of meat_’?”, Bokuto’s head bobs up and down excitement as they all huddle under the roof of the bus station.

“God, what an _idiot_ that was”, Kuro rolls his eyes.

“If I remember correctly Iwaizumi broke his nose”, Akaashi scratches his chin very calmly.

“He _what_?”, Daichi feels his stomach plummet like a stone.

“Yep. _Zero_ hesitation. Grabbed him by the collar and _bam_. Pretty sure it was the lesser evil though.”, Kuro raises his thumb with a click of his tongue.

“What would have been the alternative?”, Daichi resists the urge to scratch his nose.

“Oh, either Sugawara would have roasted him ripe for the psychiatry or Oikawa would have scratched his eyeballs out”, Konoha bibbers, teeth clacking.

“Where _was_ I? I would have _loved_ to see that”, Futakuchi sighs.

“It was amazing. He punched him and then went back to his drink as if nothing happened. A true delight”, Akaashi nods. 

Daichi would not have expected this calm and restricted man to be so _bloodthirsty_. Then again, he was learning new things every day.

And with every word he felt himself relax more and more. Maybe, just maybe, he really had not fucked up as badly as he thought. 

“_Soooo_, you coming tomorrow?”, Kuro wiggles his eyebrows at him and - _oh_, that had been his plan from the beginning, _hadn’t it_?

“I fucking hate you _so much_ Tetsuro. Let me marinate in self-loathing for once”, he sighs but not without a little upwards twist to his lips.

“Sorry, _no can do_. You were assimilated, your self-loathing is now public property so either _spill the juice_ or _man up_”, Futakuchi yawns with a floppy hand wave.

“I would love to punch him right now but _unfortunately_ he made _a point_. You’re part of the team now, so you have us to help you whether you _want_ to or _not_”, Kuro’s shiteating grin is underlined with Bokuto hooting in agreement.

_ What in tarnation's name did he get himself into? _

***

_ Matsukawa never knew how to deal with people. It wasn’t that he was _ shy_, it wasn’t that he _ didn’t like _ people. It was that people just didn’t seem to like _ him_. _

_ Some said he was _ too blunt_, some said he was _ too sarcastic _ and others told him his blunt sarcasm was to blunt to be identified as such. _

_ In Middle School he had still tried, to make friends. But he just didn’t fit in. The boys said he was weird, the girls said he looked creepy. _

_ And they weren’t even _ wrong_. His uniform made him look _ old _ and _ strange _ \- it had been like that back then and it was like that now. As if he was cursed never to get a uniform that suited him. _

_ Maybe it was because he was too _ serious _ for his age, too _ mature_. And children were so _ cruel_. Something mentioned _ once _ would become a label _ forever_. He was a realist, but the simple population had decided that pessimist was a better fitting word. A pessimist was something negative and so they avoided him. _

_ And thus, at the beginning of High School, he had decided to not even try anymore. It would just end the same. He’d rather just be the quiet guy that nobody knew than the weird guy everyone was creeped out by. _

_ His strategy had not exactly _ backfired_, but with every day his amazement over these three people grew. Not only had they decided to hang out with him, _ no_, even more particularly they were still there, every single lunch break. _

_ Tough the biggest surprise Matsukawa found _ within himself. _ He had started to open up to them - and they had not yet kicked him to the curb, on the contrary. Just _ that day _ he had a flaming discussion about sandwiches with Iwaizumi. And nobody had labelled him a weirdo for it. _

_ He was _ astonished_. And somehow, _ happy_. _

_ But it didn’t show. His face seemed to have issues with positive emotions, or emotions in general. Other than _ spite_. He was a true _ master _ at expressing spite. But people usually didn’t appreciate it as much. _

_ All in total he had been at this High School for two months and his only problem was the uniform. He did not see this turn of events coming and he absolutely would not complain about it. _

_ Okay, maybe he had another, tiny _ tiny _ problem. And it was less a problem and more a… _ weird feeling_. _

Sugawara_ … it was something about him that resonated with Matsukawa, but he couldn’t put his thumb on it. _

_ And so, naturally, he didn’t act on it, simply observed, trying to wrap his head around it. Around what drew him to the other boy, at volleyball and at school whenever he found the chance. _

_ “Dude”, someone poked his shoulder. _

_ Matsukawa flinched back into reality. “ _ Hm _ ?” _

_ “He was asleep, _ great _ ”, Oikawa clicked his tongue in displease. _

_ “ _ Good _ ”, Iwaizumi grunted. “Can I go back to my food now?” Somehow he looked weird… wh... _

_ “Why are you wearing the sweater?”, Issei tilted his head. _

_ “Well you’d know if you’d pay attention”, Hanamaki leaned back against the concrete block in his back. _

_ “It’s _ scratchy_, and it’s too _ tight _ ”, Iwaizumi pulled at the beige cloth, flexing his shoulders. _

_ “ _ Oh no_, you are too well trained and jacked to wear sweaters - _ what a nightmare _ ”, Takahiro deadpanned with little to no mercy. _

_ “It looks weird”, Matsukawa tilted his head. _

_ “Thank you!”, Iwaizumi called out throwing up his arms. _

_ “ _ Careful _ Iwa-Chan you are going to stretch it with all your muscles”, Oikawa exclaimed scoldingly. _

_ “I repeat: _ What a nightmare _ ”, Hanamaki opened his drink with a fizzle. _

_ “So why are you wearing it”, Matsukawa asked, picking up one of his rice balls, eying it from different angles, not certain if he is in the mood for rice balls. _

_ “Because he looks _ good _ in it!”, Oikawa declared proudly. Matsukawa raised his eyebrows over his rice balls. _

_ Hanamaki almost spat out his soda in an attempt to hide his laughter. _

_ “How can you wear this, it’s _ stuffy _ ” _

_ Matsukawa returned to his rice ball and let them bicker on in the background, a warm feeling sprouting in his stomach. Maybe it was hunger, _ maybe _ it was affection. _

_ All he knew was, that a year ago he would have long fled this constant noise and nonsense, but _ now _ … now he was weirdly content with it. _

_ Only one more thing to solve. _

_ Maybe High School would not turn out to be _ as bad _ as he thought it would. _ Or _ as boring. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes so sorry about the long wait, I was pretty pent up with university :P  
I have three more exams next week but after that I think you can expect a little more frequent updates as I am on break.
> 
> Thank you so much for your patience and your nice comments ^-^


	9. Chapter 7: Feverdreams and Fireworks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neon lights cast different shadows.

_Anger. _ Suga is clinging to it like to a lifeline. Anger at Futakuchi and his stupid nose sticking into things that are none of his fucking business.

He holds on to this anger because he knows the second he lets it go, he will have to admit that the other made a point. He was still an asshole but he _ did _ make a point.

Suga’s love life is messy - _ at best. _ Most of the time a total and absolute _ disaster. _

But he refuses to think about it now. Because if he starts to think about the nature of his relationships, _ if you can even call them that, _ then he will have to ask himself, _ what the gosh darn fuck is wrong with him. _

And then he will plummet. Plummet into a deep, dark pit of loathing, memories he does not want to remember, pain and _ loneliness. _ In the end, it is _ always _ the overwhelming loneliness that brings him down, makes him retreat under his covers and not leave their shelter for days until he knows he will not either let the next best person take him, just to make the pain go away or have a total breakdown the second he has to interact with a normal person.

So yeah. _ Anger. _

_ Be angry, _ he instructs himself.

Futakuchi and his stupid face, his stupid hair, his stupid height, his stupid … his stupid _ everything! _

_ “Alright, _ I am taking this”, Tooru mumbles and carefully tries to pull the sandwich out of Suga’s hand.

He has squeezed the poor thing so hard, it is now a deformed bulk of crumpled bread, mashed tomato and squashed cheese.

_ “Saints, _ what is wrong with you? You’ve been like this since yesterday - did something happen?”, his friend mumbles as he turns the sandwich in his hands, trying to save the tomato from slipping the loaves and dropping to the floor. 

_ “Nothing, _ give me back my food”, Suga snaps and seizes it back.

The tomato doesn’t survive being angrily squashed all over again and hits his thigh, leaving a stain on his jeans. Koshi curses under his breath, barely resisting the urge to hurl his sandwich across the little, gravel paved yard and just _ scream _ it out. His anger, the pain behind it, the pain that will follow it and the guilt of knowing he really has no reason to be angry in the first place!

Yeah, he is going to spiral _ pretty badly, _ pretty soon. _ But not yet! _

Tooru smacks his lips but doesn’t say anything as he exchanges a look with Issei.

Okay, maybe the whole anger thing is working a little _ too _ well.

Suddenly Suga realizes he has lost his appetite and stares at the crumpled thing that was once his lunch.

_ A vent. _ He needs a vent, one strong enough to withstand his anger and exhaust him plenty, so he won’t have time to fall into his self-loathing pit afterwards and rather go straight to sleep, hopefully shaking his problems for the moment, like he always does.

Sometime he should really try to deal with his issues but right now he is in _ active denial. _ Like he _ has been for the past sixteen years. _ And will be _ as long as possible. _

_ Take that psychology! _

This sandwich is _ clearly _ not vent enough and Suga is not quite angry enough to lash out at his friends - well, lash out _ any more _ than he already did.

He knows he has started tapping his foot because Tooru is eying it critically. 

Issei seems to have forgotten, that this is _ his _ break and looks at him, eyes soft and concerned.

Suga gnashes his teeth. He really, _ really _ doesn’t want to throw it at them but gods, he will if they don’t stop _ looking _ at him like that.

_ “I’m fine”, _ he presses out, taking a harsh bite out of his food, to underline his point. It feels like he is chewing old leather but he swallows still, out of alternative and also to convince his friends he really is. _ Of course, _ they don’t believe him, but luckily they seem to take the hint and go back to their respective food.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Yeah, he needs to drop this before tonight or he will claw out the eyes of the next best person, vaguely annoying him.

“Stop it”

At first, Suga thinks his brother is talking to him, presumably testing his patience and so he is about to get real unfriendly.

“It’s _ itching”, _ Tooru mumbles and Suga swallows back the vile words.

“I will chain you to a hospital bed, Tooru, if you don’t stop scratching!”, Issei deadpans.

They are idly sitting in the backyard of the city hospital.

Suga trying to stay angry, Tooru fighting with his new supporter and Issei robbed of his lunch-break because he has to handle the two of them.

“But _ it’s uncomfortable”, _ Tooru grumbles.

“You brought this upon yourself”, Matsun shoots him down. “And don’t even _ try _ to wiggle your way out of it, because _ the scan doesn’t lie!” _

Yes, Oikawa’s unwillingness to stick to doctors orders is nothing new. And so, after his regular check-up MRI scan had shown that he was very clearly not wearing his supporter as much as he should be, he is now stuck with a new one that has stiffer railings.

Suga looks at his friend, who scratches at his knee again, only for Issei to stomp down on his toes. With a wince, Tooru flinches away.

_ “I’ll tell Zumi, that you were uncooperative _ if you don’t sit still and stop scratching”, his brother makes the ultimate threat and indeed, Oikawa immediately redraws his fingers, skulkingly nibbling at his own sandwich.

At least Suga is not the only one feeling miserable - his pity for Tooru is strongly limited, however. It is like Issei said: _ He brought this upon himself _ and neither compassion nor encouragement will help him now - only friends who will be there to make sure he _ wears the damn thing _ \- if necessary by using force.

_ Speaking of using force. _ Usually, Suga would text Kuro and ask if he wants to go boxing after work but he is somehow mad at Kuro too. For no reason, _ he just is. _

And that, in fact, brings him to the third person, witness to yesterday’s events. _ Daichi. _

Now the important question would logically be: _ Am I mad at Daichi? _

The answer isn’t that simple, however. On the one hand, he is a _ little _ pissed. On the other, he knows, that Daichi is new to his troubles and that he has nothing to do with any of it.

_ Except for the fact, you are crushing on him hard and now he knows what a chaotic mess you really are. _

Suga tells the sly voice in his head to shut the fuck up. _ He does not need it right now! _ And only because it sounds so much like Futakuchi, he feels tempted to ask Issei for a few electric shocks to silence it.

But he knows Matsun won’t electrocute him and he also knows that this won't just go away unless he makes it.

Which brings him back to his vent.

Who could he ask that won’t judge him, that won’t tease him and that won’t look at him with this disgusting note of pity.

He pulls out his phone. _ How low have I sunken? _

He taps down the message.

And sends.

The other doesn’t let him hang for long and answers: _ ‘20 minutes, wherever you are’ _

Suga gets up to his feet.

_ “Gotta go”, _ he mumbles, turns and walks off without waiting for a reaction. He can still feel the look his two friends exchange and he knows the only reason Issei isn’t following him, is because Tooru is holding him back.

Koshi is grateful for that. Matsun may know him best, but Oikawa is and _ has always been _ the person who understands his pain the most, who knows when he needs to be alone and when not.

He texts back a meeting point, two blocks further downtown and begins to walk, the sandwich still in hand. He doesn’t know what to do with it but considering he can’t very well carry it around forever he forces it in, one bite after the other, no matter how much his stomach rebels against food.

Haizora is waiting _ exactly _ where Suga ordered him and once the other spots him, he jumps out of his car to open the passenger door for Koshi.

“Koshi”, he grins, with a little mock bow and Suga sighs, running his hand through his hair.

“Man who ruined my life”, he greets him back.

_ “Oh come on”, _ the other chuckles, but he doesn't take offence in it. They both know where the other stands.

Suga gets into the car and the other hops back into the driver's seat. 

“I must say, _ you never cease to amaze me”, _ Haizora pulls out into the street and they drive in silence. Suga doesn’t ask where they are going and the other doesn’t try to make conversation either. They don’t need words to talk, _ they never have. _ And so, in this absurd situation, _ despite everything that happened between them, _ Suga feels weirdly safe in the soft leathers of the familiar car, he picked.

*******

_ Matsukawa loved the sound of shoes. Other people thought that was _weird.

_ But there was just so much one could tell from it. How they squeaked on the linoleum, how they drummed in the hallways, how they made the pebbles crunch. _

_ Matsukawa would listen to those sounds echo in the gym and know if today they had a run, if someone was enthusiastic or not, if a person was confident or not. He had always considered himself good at this - _at reading the mood.

_ And maybe, that was precisely why Sugawara irritated him so much. The way he walked - his stride was strong and yet somehow hesitant as if he was forcing himself to take each and every step, as if he had somewhere he wanted to go to but was pressured to walk right in the opposite direction of that thing. _

Yes,_ that was one of the many examples of why he loved people's footsteps. From simple observation, he would have characterized the pale boy as strict and structured, as calm, gentle and determined. But his walk, _it painted a whole different story.

_ How he dragged his heels the first couple of steps, as if his feet felt heavy, how he ever so often tapped his toes, like he was nervous and how once in a while he’d circle his ankle in the same motion one would use to loosen up tension. _

_ Something told him, that this boy wanted to run, that he wanted to stomp and to jump and that was why it unnerved - no, that was not the word he would use to describe it - why it _ concerned _ him, to see the other always so still, always so quiet, always so restrained. _

_ Usually, he didn’t care if the message he got from someone’s walk was different than their overall demeanour. Everyone was hiding something, everyone was pretending to be someone else at some point in life and puberty was a saturated Petri dish for emotional and personal experiments. _

_ Sugawara, however, was _ so neatly consistent _ in his facade, it was genuinely distracting. _

_ The same way you could never sleep in a basement until you have spotted at least one spider! You saw the spider, you removed it and then everything was fine because the spider _ was definitely gone! _ You found none and your head automatically assumed, that was because they must be hiding in your pillow or the mattress, around every corner and the second you closed your eyes and went to sleep _they would crawl into your mouth and lay eggs inside you.

_ The pale boy with the silver hair was very much a spiderless basement - _his facade so flawless, it was instantly fishy!

_ But much like sitting awake in a spiderless cellar, uncertainty driving you insane, never knowing if there really were spiders hiding or if you were just thinking there were some, because an actual lack of spiders was such a nice thought, it couldn’t possibly be true and you also checked every corner thrice and turned the whole room upside down without result, Matsukawa could not help but fight with himself whether there was _ actually _ something wrong with his teammate or if he was just seeing things that might also be meaningless because his instincts had never failed him before! _

Unfortunately,_ instinct was all he had to offer and no facts to back up the feeling, nagging at him, so that uncertainty kept him to remain actionless. Something was definitely wrong with Sugawara but something was also definitely wrong _ with Issei! _ It was not like him to obsess this much over matters he didn’t understand and that didn’t affect him directly. _

_ Matsukawa was a pragmatic and spending so much thought on something he couldn’t influence, _ never mind wrap his head around, _ was a behaviour that was enough reason to worry on its own. _Maybe he caught a fever?

** _“Matsukawa!”_ **

_ He flinched as the coach called out his name. _Oops. 

_ After a few seconds of reorientation, he realised they had moved on in their stretching routine and he hastily complied to loosen up his other shoulder. _

_ He had to get a better hold of himself! _

_ And yet his eyes drifted, to the slim frame of the other and his thoughts began to circle once again, without him being able to do anything against it. _

*******

Daichi meets the others at the subway. He is surprised to find Oikawa and Iwaizumi there too, the former in disguise, wearing a cap and sunglasses and _ very unhappy _ about it.

_ “I hate caps”, _ he grumbles under his breath repeatedly, while tucking at it as if his head was itching.

They walk from the station and Daichi realizes how long it has been since he last went to this part of downtown. He only vaguely remembers a clothing shop Yui likes, to be in this general area.

Kuro bumps his elbow into Daichi’s shoulder and grins at him, the other arm wrapped around Kenma-San, who is staring into his phone and greeted Daichi with nothing more than a vague hum of awareness.

_ “Looking smooth”, _ Tetsuro wiggles his eyebrows and Daichi takes a deep sigh.

“The offer to punch you, if you don’t drop it, _ still stands, _ you know?”, he gruffs out.

_ However, _ his back straightens and he walks with a little more purpose. He had been uncharacteristically self-conscious with his clothes and the only reason Yui had let him go earlier was, that she insisted on picking his outfit. It had been _ apocalyptic. _

_ “My my Tetsuro, _ I don’t think your contact lenses are working correctly!”, Oikawa sighs and looks Daichi up and down. “I mean sure, _ green is a good start, _ but this grass tone? _ Please!”, _ he huffs out. “He’s _ clearly _ more an _ olive _ guy - oh, _ scratch that, _ you need some light and dark checkers, _ that _ would look good!”  
Daichi very self consciously looks down his sweater. _ He likes that sweater. _  
The weather is going crazy lately with snow falling all night long, but the intense sun melting it all away over the day and despite it being the middle of February, he can wear his coat open. Now he seriously considers closing it, _ especially _ when Oikawa turns his head and says: _ “Back me up here, _ Iwa-Chan!”

_ “Leave the poor man alone _ \- it’s bad enough you won’t stop pestering the rest of us!”, Iwaizumi harrumphs, interrupting his conversation with Reon.

_ “No sense _ for fashion or culture - If _ Ko-Chan _ were here…”

_ “Speaking of Suga, _ where is he?”, Kuro asks.

“If he’s not here, then he’ll meet us at the Club - _ you know how he is”, _ Oikawa shrugs, a little _ too _ casual.

Kuro nods and pretends to get out a notepad and pencil: _ “Make nothing but compliments because Suga is most likely still super pissed. _ Got it!”, he declares and taps his non-existent pen on his non-existent paper. 

Oikawa gives him a deadpan stare.

_ “What? _ You just said I know how he is and because I _ indeed do know Koshi, _ I also know, if he actively avoids taking the train with us, _ he is mad”, _ Kuro shrugs.

Daichi swallows back as discreetly as possible.  
_ Oh shit. _ Coming here suddenly feels like a very bad idea.

Oikawa continues to stare at Kuro, but then he shakes his head and mumbles: _ “It’s insensible comments like that, _ that probably made him mad _ in the first place _ \- I have eyes in my head Tetsuro!”

They walk around a corner and Daichi almost instantly spots the place they are headed for. Mainly because Aone is just hard to overlook and even if there was another, _ identical _ huge man with white hair, Bokuto’s grey and white spikes are _ so unique, _ they would stand out _ anywhere. _

“Hey, _ there they are _ \- will you get it moving!”, Hanamaki spots them first and shouts down the street.

Daichi notices Futakuchi and Matsukawa behind him and swallows hard. He’s not sure which scenario he is more afraid of: That he’ll have another anxiety attack _ or _ that he will lose his shit and punch one of them in the face.

“Nice to see you”, Akaashi seems to sense his nervousness and gives him a gentle pat on the shoulder.

“Oh umn… _ thanks! _ You… _ you too”, _ Daichi nods and even manages a bit of a relieved smile. At least someone is trying to make him feel less awkward.

_ “I erm… _ I hate to be the one pointing this out, but when you said you met Ko-Chan earlier, how angry was he - _ Exactly?”, _ Hanamaki clears his throat.

“I wouldn’t say he was _ angry _ -”, Oikawa starts to defend himself, but his friend undercuts him by grabbing his shoulder and turning him around.

“Okay, then you _ definitely missed a memo” _

Daichi, like almost everyone, follows his outstretched finger.

Just as their weird mixture of a jolly party, the black sports car is everything but subtle.

Daichi can’t identify the brand, but he doesn’t need to, in order to know that it is a _ fancy _ one!

“Oh, you gotta be _ fucking kidding me!” _, Iwaizumi whispers, cracking his knuckles.

Daichi is pretty sure he does it subconsciously because his eyes are glued to the vehicle and his face is more a mixture of annoyance and worry than actually murderous.

The sound still underlines his word perfectly and Daichi can feel an icy shiver trickle down his spine. Yup, _ strong _ tendency towards _ ‘anxiety attack’. _

The car holds a dozen metres down the street and an elegantly dressed man jumps out of the driver's seat. He looks casual but in an artificial and expensive way, with a thick watch flashing on his wrist.

The man walks around the car and opens the passenger’s door.

Daichi knows what is about to happen, but he is not in the least prepared for it.

To say Suga looks stunning would still be an insult, _ that is how good he looks! _

His hair seems lighter than usual, puffier and more bouncy. The black turtleneck fits over his torso skintight and the jeans do something _ very nice _ with his thighs...

_ Wow wow wow, back of Sawamura!, _ he forces his thoughts to take a radical turn in the other direction. _ That is one cool garbage can!, _ he decides, violently focussing on the other side of the street.

The driver of the fancy car whispers something into Sugawara’s ear, who grins confidently, then he returns something Daichi can not comprehend, but judging from his face it must have been something sassy.

The man laughs, then he performs a deep and elaborate bow, like some kind of over-sketched buttler, before looking up and sparing their group an interested look.

His eyes catch on Oikawa and he calls over: “Tooru - _ fancy seeing you!” _

_ “Haizora”, _ the brunet answers cheerfully, but his teeth are gritted and his smile obviously forced. 

_ “Congrats on sealing the deal _ \- I hope the big guys will see some sense and we can seal another soon”, he jovially expresses, then he returns to his side of the car, opens the door and sees off with a gesture as if he was lifting an imaginary hat.

And that is the moment Daichi recognises him and questions if maybe he needs glasses, because _ how could he not see that sooner? _

“Gods, _ how I hate his face”, _ Oikawa and Iwaizumi gnash out simultaneously, then the former looks at his husband and ads a soft: “Aw, _ Iwa-Chan” _

Suga prances down the sidewalk, coat flung over his shoulder. He seems taller and prouder - somehow refreshed.

“Why are you looking like that? _ Do I have something between my teeth?”, _ he stops short, critically looking at Hanamaki, who happens to be closest to him.

_ “Nope _ \- nice turtleneck? _ That new?”, _ he returns, catching himself quickly.

“Well, shouldn’t _ you _ know!”, Suga grins mischievously.

“Isn’t that Matsun’s, that you put into the washing machine on the wrong setting?”, Iwaizumi duns the strawberry-blond and Suga claps his hands.

“Hajime: _ One _ \- Takahiro: _ Zero”, _ he announces and pushes past them. “And now I need a drink!”

“How do _ you _ know that?”, Hanamaki stares at his friend, who just shrugs, then he turns and follows Sugawara inside.

“Was that…”, Daichi finds his voice again. “Was that _ Kyoto Cop?” _

He has never really watched the very popular TV-Show about a regular policeman who discovers he has some sort of spirit-powers and starts policing Japan’s supernatural underground society. Sometimes he catches a few episodes when there is nothing else on, but Yui and Tanaka are both big fans of the series as is half the country, _ for some reason, _ so the commercials are everywhere whenever a new season is announced. He is also pretty certain that Oikawa has a role in too! _ Or used too… _ his brain has a vague side note about Yui complaining a great character died but he doesn’t know who anymore.

_ “Yup”, _ Kuro nods and pats his back. “So you see, _ I’m not Suga’s worst ex-boyfriend” _

And with those words, he is shoved into the Club, stomach dragging on the floor behind him.

Daichi doesn’t really know what he expected to find - to come clean he hasn’t been to a club in a very long time and his image of one may be slightly outdated and stereotype-based.

He vaguely remembers never having liked them very much, but this here seems surprisingly bearable.

The hulky bouncer at the entrance just waves them through, even goes at far as to bow before Matsukawa, something that confuses Daichi _ more than anything else tonight. _

Then they ditch their clothes at the garderobe and move head on up a flight of stairs and into the masses. The first floor has some weird techno and electronic dance music going, the second upbeat pop and rock, the third a funky mixture between modern, 90’s, 80’s and 70’s disco.

But Daichi is relentlessly pushed on, following Reon’s back, Kuro shoving him from behind as if he was afraid Daichi would try to use the crowd as a distraction and run - _ which, _ to be totally honest, _ he actually contemplates for a moment. _

They climb up the stairs to the fourth floor and Daichi is almost certain it will be some weird alternative stuff, but to his relief, it turns out to be a lounge and far more empty than the rest of the place. Soft jazz tunes loosen up the air and the warm leather and wood aesthetics make it all look like some _ old English pub from a movie. _

It is for a single beautiful second, that he truly believes this might be a chill night, then he spots a certain lanky redhead lounging in one of the barstools and give them a sleazy wave.

“Hello, _ hello”, _ he chirps.

Oikawa jumps a solid foot in the air, hectically hiding behind Iwaizumi and frantically looking around.

“Don’t worry, _ Wakatoshi is on a conference”, _ another man, standing behind the bar calls over and the brunet relaxes. The stranger has light-grey hair, similar to Suga but slightly darker and pulled back into a neck-long ponytail. He wears a typical bartender uniform, sleeves rolled up, black apron and a towel tucked under the cord.

_ “Why _ am I married to you?”, Iwaizumi questions his husband with a shake of his head.

“And he took Shirabu-Chan-Chan with him - _ my days are an endless stream of boredom”, _ the redhead laments in addition.

_ “What a tragedy”, _ Matsukawa and Hanamaki deadpan in unison.

Dachi watches the group dissolve, majority moving to a spacious group of leather sofas and lounge chairs in the corner of the room and Reon, Suga and Iwaizumi moving over to the bar, the first greeting the redhead and the bartender energetically.

“Come on, _ move it!”, _ Kuro gives Daichi another push in the back and directs him and Kenma over to the rest, who are settling down on the leather cushions.

But out of the corner of his perception, Daichi can still hear the conversation at the bar.

“Do you need some help?”, Suga asks the bartender.

“Do _ you _ need a distraction?”, the man retorts.

_ “Yep” _

“Promise me you won’t throw glasses at people again!?”

_ “Already did that today _ \- I am _ completely _ relaxed”

“Who had to bite the dust?”

_ “Professional secret” _

“Fair enough”

And then he is too far away to understand Suga’s next answer anymore but the silver-haired settles down on a stool next to the redhead and they start some idle chatter.

Daichi catches the word _ ‘trash flower sculpture’ _ and scrunches his face in confusion before Kuro pressures him entirely out of earshot.

But it turns out, he isn’t allowed to sit down and relax just yet!

When Daichi finally gets to settle down several hours later, he is exhausted, sweaty and frankly, _ he doesn’t know when he last had fun like this! _

A few beers loosen up his tension and the music does the rest. He doesn’t even know anymore _ who _ dragged him to the dancefloor, but he is _ grateful _ someone did. There was a lot of stuff he just had to… _ move away! _

_ Now, _ however, his throat is dry and his head is starting to protest against the onslaught of loud music. He’s craving for the calm of the lounge and for a chance to sit down.

Suddenly thirty-three feels _ incredibly old! _

It’s a Friday night and he feels like the place is getting more and more cramped by the minute.

Eventually, he manages to fight his way back into the fourth floor and lets out a relieved breath. 

A quick glance into their corner tells him, that Yahaba, Watari and Saru have joined their merry round, then he is intercepted by Iwaizumi.

“Hey, _ you seen Tooru?”, _ the other asks him, big jugs of beer in both hands.

“I _ uh….”, _ and Daichi turns around, staring down the stairs he just came from. The only other people behind him are Bokuto and Kuro.

_ “What?”, _ the latter asks.

“You seen Oikawa?”, Daichi relays.

Both men turn around, look down behind them, mirroring Daichi perfectly. _ “Odd _ \- could have sworn he was right behind us”, Kuro mumbles.

“Oh I think _ he got held up by some girls”, _ Bokuto thinks out loud.

“For fuck’s sake - _ The damn idiot!”, _ Iwaizumi grumbles out, then he pushes the beer at Daichi with an unnerved, _ “Hold this”, _ and stomps past them to rescue his husband from his fans - _ is what Daichi assumes. _

Now that he has been tasked with the alcohol, Daichi strides with a little more purpose, then he set’s the jugs down on the table in the middle of the couch arrangement.

“Where’s Zumi going?”, Hanamaki asks.

_ “The knight has set out to rescue the princess”, _ Kuro poetically explains and a uniform _ “Aha”, _ runs through the entire group.

_ “Hey, _ where is the rest?”, their supreme bedhead proceeds to ask.

Instead of a verbal answer, Hanamaki simply takes a very long slurp out of a bright pink drink, that looks rather _ toxic _ to Daichi and points over to the bar.

The three of them turn to look and it knocks the wind out of Daichi’s sails in one swift blow.

Suga, Akaashi, Kenma, Yaku, the weird redhead and the barkeeper are all gathered where the counter forms a corner, hunched together, apparently having the conversation of their lives, with big grins painting their faces and when the redhead says something, Suga giggles into his hand and Akaashi looks as amused as Daichi may have ever seen him.

In between them, a tablet of shots is standing on the counter and while Akaashi is opening tiny umbrellas, Suga and Yaku are poking olives onto them before placing them in the alcohol. The redhead just sits there, occasionally snacking said olives, Kenma is still deep under in his phone and the barkeeper is preparing another tablet with shots, those ones weirdly reddish.

_ “The gateway to heaven”, _ Watari announces.

“More like: _ The Last Judgement”, _ Futakuchi corrects him.

_ “Ah, _ I know for a fact that three of the judges can be bribed with _ pop tarts!” _, Kuro dismisses that. “How long has that been going?”

“About an hour”, Futakuchi tells them after a quick glance on his wristwatch.

_ “Uh, _ so who’s leading?”, Bokuto’s head bops down in excitement.

“That’s the weird thing today”, Saru chimes in. _ “No one” _

“We have had two oglers but none dared to approach yet”, Yahaba sighs.

_ “Uh….”, _ Daichi makes a long confused noise as he reaches for his old glass. “What now?”

“Oh yeah right, _ it’s your first”, _ Futakuchi makes a small gesture with his own fancy, rainbow-coloured drink. “We’re betting shots on who the leeches are going to hit on the most”

Daichi almost drops the beer jug while refilling his glass.

_ “What?”, _ he yips.

_ “It’s fun”, _ Hanamaki grins. “Last time someone tried Kenma by looking what he was playing and Kozume kicked him in the nuts - _ that was awesome!”, _ he recalls. “Tonight my shot is on Suga though - _ he’s glowing!” _

“Oh I think _ his _ confident vibes are the ones who scare everyone away - he is glowing! _ Radioactive!”, _ Saru thinks out loud.

“You have _ no idea _ how many people are turned on by that!”

“Speaking from experience?”, Futakuchi sneers.

“As a matter of fact - _ not anymore! _ I tried him once while he was still a bit rest pissy and trust me, I am _ only _ alive because Issei saved me”, Hanamaki shudders. “But there are enough idiots who don’t know what I know”

_ “Poor souls” _, Aone makes his first contribution to the discussion and earns wide agreement.

“You can place a bet too and better make it _ fast, _ we have another potential contender!”, Hanamaki returns back to Daichi.

“Weird guy, _ over at the palm? _ Dark hair, blue shirt, jeans and fake Rolex?”, Kuro discretely glances around.

_ “That’s the one” _, Reon nods. “He’s waiting for an opening”

_ Even him? _ Daichi has believed that at least Ohira has some sense of common courtesy. 

“Oh, _ I’m down for Yaku _ \- he’s not yelling for once, this might be his chance”, Kuro announces as he flops down into a vacant place.

Bokuto opens his mouth but Saru cuts him off: _ “Yeah yeah, _ we already got you on Team Akaashi. You always bet on him!”

The bright-eyed man nods solemnly, then he too sits down, pours himself a beer and starts to curiously eye the group at the bar.

Daichi is still not certain if this is another weird initiation joke, but the men around him seem very invested in their gamble.

Daichi hesitantly finishes pouring his own drink and sits down.

“So, _ your bet, _ Sawamura”, Hanamaki snaps his fingers jovially.

Daichi swallows hard and dares a glance over at Matsukawa. He believed the man to be slumbering, sunken in one of the lounge chairs, arms folded over his chest but now one of his dark eyes is open and glinting at him like an _ evil beetle. _

To his great luck, he is relieved from making a contribution by the opening Reon has prophesied.

It comes in the form of Iwaizumi and Oikawa returning up the stairs, the former pushing his husband relentlessly, the later waving over his shoulder and calling out a cheerful: _ “Sorry ladies, _ duty calls”, then he gives his partner a quick peck on the cheek, mumbles something and strides off over to the bar, drawing a chair for himself from under the counter, while Iwaizumi joins their group.

“Oh, _ come on, _ Zumi!”, Hanamaki calls out. “You _ ruined _ it!”

“Game, Set and _ Match”, _ the dark-haired grins, then he grabs himself a beer, emptying the first jug.

_ “Why?”, _ Daichi asks before his brain can suggest he _ maybe _ doesn’t want to know the answer.

“Because they _ always _ go for Tooru!”, Hanamaki groans out. “He’s just too generally appealing”

“He’s a basic bitch, but he’s also a _ hot _ bitch!”, Futakuchi sighs.

_ “Careful Kenji, _ that bitch is _ my _ bitch and he’s a _ premium _ bitch!”, Iwaizumi dares the other.

“Sometimes I _ really _ don’t get you!”, Yahaba narrows his eyes at his former vice-captain and shakes his head.

“It’s his butt”, Hanamaki decides.

_ “Wrong _ \- his hands! They are surreally beautiful”, Matsukawa mumbles, sounding only half awake.

_ “What? _ No, thighs, _ obviously!”, _ Saru looks as if _ ‘butt’ _ and _ ‘hands’ _ were the most absurd suggestion ever.

“Shoulders!”, Bokuto contributes with a respectful thumbs-up, reinforced by Watari’s solemn nod.

“You _ all _ need glasses, it’s _ clearly _ the hair!”, Futakuchi harrumphs out.

_ “Guys, guys, _ ** _guys,_ ** that’s all wrong! You remember the line-up for the _ AVC Club Championship? _ His side profile is _ mesmerizing!”, _ Kuro calls out. 

_ “Enough! _ That’s my husband, _ you fucking animals!”, _ Iwaizumi eventually puts an end to the discussion. “Also, _ it’s his neck _ and Maki, you owe me twenty bucks for violation of property rights”

“What, _ why only me?”, _ the strawberry-blond sits upright in protest. 

“Because _ as of now, _ the imprint of my hand and teeth are only on his ass if you want proof of ownership. I’ll keep the rest in mind for next time though. _ Thanks for the suggestions guys _, now shut up and prepare to lose, the leach is making a move!”, the other declares confidently, then he nods over to the man Kuro pointed out earlier, who is indeed approaching the bar.

_ “Kinky”, _ Saru grins, then he too turns to have a better look while Hanamaki grabs a tiny bowl of pretzels, that Daichi just now spots distributed all round the seating arrangement and starts munching them like popcorn.

The stranger confidently closes in on the group using Oikawa’s appearance as distraction.

“Holy shit, _ he is actually going for Akaashi!”, _ Hanamaki assesses and Iwaizumi grumbles: _ “Fuck, _ what do I even keep that useless idiot around for?”, through gritted teeth.

_ “Hey, _ I couldn’t help but notice you”, the stranger starts off, oozing his way slightly between Suga and Akaashi. _ “I know it’s cliche, _ but your eyes are beautiful”

Daichi can practically hear the slime the man is spreading.

“Oof - _ dead on arrival”, _ Hanamaki hisses with a cringe.

“I have a boyfriend”, Akaashi deadpans, then he turns back to the group. The others have stilled in preparing the shot glasses and are all watching the intruder with open interest, equally as eager to find out how he will proceed as the couch-gang is.

_ “I’m Lee _ by the way - why don’t you introduce me to your friends?”, the leach continues his pursuit.

_ “Oh come on, _ that is just cheap”, Futakuchi comments with a sneer.

“I’m terribly sorry, I don’t know where have I left my manners -”, Akaashi begins and Kuro rubs his hands gleefully.

_ “Here it comes”, _ he grins.

“- my friend right here is _ ‘Not interested in you’ _ and I am _ ‘About to get real unfriendly’, _ nice to meet you Lin”

“It’s _ Lee” _

_ “Nobody cares” _

And with that, he definitively turns away from the man, who just stands there, still stomaching the burn, but it turns out he has a little bit of confidence left, because he turns to Suga with a mischievous expression, whispering: “Someone seems to be in a foul mood tonight, but that doesn’t have to spoil the fun for the rest of us, _ don’t you think”, _ he goes on before reaching out and curls a strand of silver hair around his finger, probably trying to be seductive. “I’ve never seen a colour like this, it looks stunning on you! _ You _ look stunning” 

_ “Ouch!”, _ Yahaba mumbles. “R.I.P leech guy”

_ “Lection One: _ Do not ever, _ under any circumstances _ lose a work about Suga’s hair colour!”, Kuro whispers to Daichi. “I have no idea why, but he is extremely sensitive about it, as in: _ Will rip your throat out if you assume it’s fake” _

And indeed, Suga’s eyes turn to slits, he jerks his head away, flinging his bangs back and then lasciviously leans against the counter.

Daichi feels like he has been drinking gravel all night long. _ This… _ he can’t think it, _ he just can’t! _

“That’s _ such _ a good idea, Lee”, the silver-haired giggles. “I was indeed hoping to have fun tonight”

The blood in Daichi’s adders turns ice cold. _ No, that can’t… _

“So you are beautiful _ and _ smart”, this Lee guy looks very smug, closing in on Suga. “Can I buy you a drink”, he asks insinuatingly and places his hand on the inside of the silver-haired’s thigh.

It happens so fast, Daichi’s brain can barely process how Suga grabs the man’s hand and bends it in some kind of karate-move, forcing the other to crouch down, arm twisted to the side, fingers splayed painfully. One moment Daichi feels sick to the bones, the next he is just perplexed.

_ “Argh _, what the fuck?”, Lee snaps, but there is a whiney strain in his voice.

Suga’s reply is still poisonously sweet: “Unless you have left your eyes in the same place you dropped your brain and your balls, you will see that I am filling shot glasses. Now, _ do I look like I need a drink!?” _

_ “You fucking bitch, _ let me go!”

_ “Careful buddy, _ your fingers are just a couple millimetres away from being dislocated so I advise that you choose your next reply very carefully when I tell you: _ If someone says they are not interested, then you scram, understood? _ So we’re going to practice this again: We are not interested in your _ horrible _ pick-up lines and your _ nauseating _ cologne”, Suga huffs out disgusted, then he releases the man, who jumps to his feet, clutching his hand, face red and angry.

But the picture at the poor guy’s display is one of true terror - _ The Last Judgment indeed _ and if Lee does not have a _ massive _ amount of pop tarts hidden somewhere, then he is in for a bumpy ride to hell!

Suga is still leaning against the counter and crosses his legs, gaze deadly and cold. Akaashi dares him with an eyebrow sharp enough to split molecules. The redhead is looking at Lee with the expression of a maniac comic book antagonist about to dissect some innocent girl he kidnapped. Yaku has his arms crossed over his chest in disaprovement, very much reminding Daichi of his mother when she is angry! The bartender demonstratively rams the big knife he’s been cutting lemons with into a pineapple awaiting portioning and Oikawa is ogling the pointy end of one of the tiny umbrellas as if he always wanted to know what it would look like with an _ eyeball _ poked onto it instead of an olive. The killing blow, however, _ comes from Kenma _ above all people. In the middle of the silence he looks up from his phone and says: “Something _ stinks _ \- can I have another _ Pepsi?”, _ entirely overlooking Lee, who bites his lower lip in anger, but apparently he is _ just barely not as stupid as he looks _ because he turns and stops off, muttering something under his breath.

“And that”, Hanamaki solemnly declares. “Is why _ I don’t pay for the cinema anymore” _

“Wow, _ Suga-San is off the charts! _ Who the hell pissed him off that hard?”, Yahaba asks with a slight whistle.

In the peripherals of his vision, Daichi notices Futakuchi swallowing back hard, suddenly having lost interest in his drink and it puts a big, fat, satisfied smirk on his face.

Lee the leech doesn’t stay the only unfortunate soul who decides to try fish in the pond at the bar, but the others all have the decency to scram when being turned down, some with more force than others.

At two in the morning, they call the game quits, despite Hanamaki’s laments over the tie between Akaashi and Oikawa.

“I really don’t get it? You are not even _ the least bit bothered _ by it?”, Daichi eventually gives up to understand.

_ “Nah, _ they can fend for themselves”, Iwaizumi shrugs but Hanamaki has a different explanation at hand. 

_ “You see, _ dear Flowers Guy: _ This right here _ is a _ very fine breed _ of what the common anthropologist will call: _ The Emancipated Alpha Male!” _

_ “Fuck off, _ Takahiro!”, the dark-haired swats at his friend, but the strawberry-blond ducks under the lax lash and continues gleefully.

_ “The Emancipated Alpha Male _ acts _ as if unbothered _ by the advances others make towards its mate _ because it does not want to be the prude grandpa of the group. _ But once it has retreated to its cave and consumed an _ unreasonable amount of protein shakes, _ it will give in to the jealousy, _ establish dominance _ over their mate and _ mark the territory with bite marks and hickeys, _ while having wild se- _ oof”, _ this time he isn’t fast enough and Iwaizumi’s hand whacks him right below his solar plexus. Hanamaki goes down with a wheeze and crumples to the ground.

“Did he at least deserve it?”, Suga asks from right behind them, looking over Daichi’s shoulder down at his friend, desperately coughing for air

_ “Yes”, _ Iwaizumi says the same moment Kuro calls out: _ “No _ \- we were just getting to the interesting part!”

“If he’s starting to talk like he’s narrating a documentary, please keep him at _ exactly _ the level of alcohol he is at now! A couple more shots and he’ll start biting”, Suga informs them, giving Iwaizumi an intense stare. “My neck _ can not _ take anymore - epidemiologists would have their fair bit of fun with how I look!”, he huffs out. “And any movie covering the plague would hire me on the spot!”

“Gotcha”, Iwaizumi nods.

_ “Betrayal”, _ Hanamaki wheezes from the floor.

Daichi considers incorporating all the drinks the strawberry-blond is now prohibited from having because what _ he _ can not take anymore is this emotional rollercoaster.

One moment he is free and happy and relaxed and the next his stomach is lost somewhere at the garderobe and his heart feels awfully tight.

“Daichi”, someone stubs his shoulder and when he looks back, Suga is blinking down at him.

“Oh umn… _ yeah?”, _ he answers and Suga grins, the beauty mark under his eye laughing fondly. Daichi’s heart makes an excited skip.

“You’re due!”

“I’m _ what?” _

But Suga doesn’t answer, just prods him in the shoulder again. _ “Come on” _

Nervously Daichi gets up to his feet and follows him. It takes all his strength not to throw a helpless gaze over his shoulder, very aware of the group behind them and their eyes in his back.

“I sure hope you’re not too drunk already!?”, Suga says with a teasing tone of voice, dragging him over to the bar.

The gang there has dissolved, but Daichi doesn’t know where everyone went. Maybe another round on the dancefloor? Then again, _ Kenma-San on the dancefloor…. _

“No, I umn… _ still good”, _ Daichi tries to strike a confident tone. He’s maybe _ a little bit tipsy _ but still far away from drunk.

“Good!”, Suga grins and jumps up into one of the bar chairs. “Because _ I _ still _ owe you _ some drinks”

“O...oh, _ yeah _ , right - I totally forgot!”, Daichi chuckles. He _ actually _ forgot the reason he was even invited to this gettogether in the first place! And so he sits down next to Suga. “Can you recommend something?”, he asks. “I don’t really know much about drinks”

“Oh _ don’t worry”, _ and Suga waves over the bartender. “Daichi, this is Semi Eita, two times winner of the national bartending championship!”, he introduces.

“There is a championship for bartending?”, Daichi says confused, a millisecond before he can consider _ that might have been an insult! _

“There is a championship _ for everything”, _ the bartender deadpans. “So _ you’re _ the Flowers Guy”, he nods then, checking Daichi up and down.

“In _ this _ bar”, Suga announces, “You don’t order, _ you get served! _ So Semi: _ Do the thing _ \- we are at your mercy!”

“Any allergies?”, Eita asks Daichi, who shakes his head.

“None I’m aware of”

_ “Great, _ then let’s find out if you really don’t”, the man smirks and turns around, walking up and down the artfully arranged rows of bottles at the wall behind the counter.

_ “You know, _ If you are still mad at me, I’d rather you just karate-chop me to death. I think I’ll prefer that over being poisoned”, Daichi informs Suga.

The other laughs, then puts his hands on the counter, massaging his knuckles. “I’m not mad at you!”, he hesitantly releases Daichi from the dread holding him hostage. “I guess I just… _ had a bad day _ yesterday”

_ “Alright”, _ Daichi nods, biting on his lower lip. He will certainly not make a discussion out of yesterday! “That was umn… _ pretty amazing! _ How you handled that guy earlier”

_ “Oh, _ that was basic”, Suga makes a dismissive hand wave. _ “Last time _ Kenma -”

“ - _ kicked someone in the balls! _ Yeah, Hanamaki already told me”, Daichi interrupts him with a grin and Suga releases a playfully aggravated groan.

_ “Gods damn it, _ Hiro! Always stealing the best stories”, he complains but his big smile betrays the annoyed tone of voice.

“So does it…_ does it not bother you?”, _ Daichi asks hesitantly and Suga tilts his head in confusion.

“What? _ Being hit on?” _

Daichi makes a helplessly flapping hand motion, his throat not willing to articulate words and in the end, he just nods.

_ “Hm… _ no, _ not really”, _ Suga muses. “I mean _ sure _ there are the idiots, they are annoying but once in a while you have a pretty decent guy at your hands _ and then it’s fun” _

Daichi swallows back nervously, back to his internal conflict between _ ‘Stop asking, what Sugawara does is none of your business!’ _ and just that _ need to make sure he is okay! _

Eita returns to them, two glasses in hand and sets them down in front of them.

“There you go”, he announces.

“What is this?”, Daichi curiously looks at his drink. It is relatively transparent and brownish except for the two dark green layers.

_ “A drink”, _ the bartender deadpans.

_ “Don’t ask”, _ Suga mumbles with a grin and takes his lavender and orange mixture.

“Whatever you say”, Daichi nervously agrees and hesitantly smells at his drink, very aware of Eita’s piercing stare. Eventually, he closes his eyes, accepts his faith and lifts the glass to his lips.

_ “Holy shit!”, _ he gasps out. “That’s good!”

The liquid is clear, has a mild burn and makes his mouth fizzle like these Kaktus popsicles do.

_ “Kiwi and Cucumber special!”, _ Eita now announces, very pleased with his work, then he gives them a nod and strides off to serve another customer.

“Told you, _ Semi knows his liquids”, _ Suga bumps his elbow and Daichi grins.

“I’m sorry for ever doubting you, _ oh wise and great Sugawara” _

The other snorts into his glass. “Don’t make me karate-cop you!”, he grins cheekily. “My intellect has gotten enough praise already tonight - if you want to make amends, _ compliment my butt! _ It feels neglected”, he jokes.

“Alright then”, Daichi accepts the challenge and oddly enough, because the other has asked him to do so, it doesn’t even feel _ that weird _ when he leans back and starts eying his ass. Maybe it’s also because _ whatever _ alcohol is in that drink, _ it makes him feel very funny! _

“Sugawara’s But-San, _ you look good today!”, _ he announces solemnly.

The other’s cheeks flame up, but he drowns his face in his glass muffling: “Go on, _ go on” _

_ “You uh… _ look very _ firm _ and _ umn, round!?”, _ Daichi continues his praise but quickly runs out of attributes to describe butts.

Suga snorts out loud, choking on his drink and wheezes over the counter. “Good grief, _ Daichi!”, _ he laughs. “That might have been the worst and _ simultaneously _ the best pick-up line my butt has ever been graced with!”

“I’m a bit out of practice”, he admits hesitantly and scratches the back of his head in embarrassment.

“Don’t worry - _ my butt is flattered!”, _ Suga appeases him with a gentle smirk and Daichi grins into his drink.

For a few moments, they sit in silence, the silver-haired gently kicking his feet and flexing his hands around his glass, then Daichi fights himself through to pick up the conversation again.

_ “So umn… _ I overheard something about a _ garbage flower?”, _ he raises his eyebrows questioningly.

_ “Oh yeah _ \- Wakatoshi-San asked me to pick a resignation gift for the Prime Minister and that sculpture is my favourite out of the possible options. Tendou likes it too, but Shirabu, _ allegedly, _ said _ it’s not classy enough _ \- but it’s political in an artsy way and also it’s reasonably sized”, Sugawara elaborates with a laugh. “So he can put it wherever he likes”

Daichi furrows his brows. _ “The Prime Minister is resigning?” _

The other’s face turns the same colour as his hair and he clamps a hand over his mouth. _ “Oops”, _ he whispers horrified. “That was supposed to be a secret”

Daichi stares at him, surprised. _ How the hell does Suga always know stuff like that? _ But after a few moments of confusion, he grins and takes a deep gulp out of his drink.

“Well, _ I suppose _ I can keep a secret”, he announces with a mockingly generous tone. _ “For a couple more drinks” _

Suga blinks. “How about I just _ not _ karate-chop you unconscious?”, he offers in return, eyes blazing mischievously.

_ “Sold!”, _ Daichi agrees on the spot and the other grins, very pleased with himself.

_ “But seriously, _ Daichi - I know that’s a lot to ask but if you could _ not _ call the next best boulevard newspaper or post it on Facebook, that _ would be appreciated!”, _Suga nervously fidgets with his hands. 

“Sure thing”, Daichi bumps their elbows. “What about _ Twitter?” _

_ “Oh you -”, _ and Suga slams his fist into Daichi’s biceps. “Stop it, _ I’m serious!”, _ he snorts out.

“My lips are sealed!”, Daichi grins, then he makes a ‘_ mouth zipped close’-motion _ and tosses the key over his shoulder.

“Thank you!”, Suga smiles at him softly. “And umn… _ for helping me with the flowers, _ too!”

_ “No problem, _ I had a lot of fun, but umn… do you, like… _ really don’t have a driver's license?”, _ Daichi hums out his response, then scratches his chin in thought.

“Why is everyone so confused about it? _ I just don’t need one”, _ Suga calls out, throwing his hands in the air.

Daichi duns him with a raised eyebrow. 

“I don’t need one _ often enough _ that it would warrant going through all the trouble of getting it!”, the other budges in and corrects himself. _ “After all, _ that is what I have friends with convenient large vans and fancy sports cars for!”

Daichi swallows. _ Friends… _ he should be happy, but he still feels a little disappointed.

_ No!, _ he scolds himself inwardly. ‘ _ Friends’ is exactly where you want to be! _

“Okay”, he says to distract himself, but then he furrows his brows. _ “Wait, _ but didn’t Matsukawa say you were a double for Oikawa in that one movie?”

“Just because I don’t have a license, _ doesn’t mean I don’t know how to drive, _ Daichi!”, Suga looks very smug. “I just don’t like modern cars, probably because I learned to drive in a _ 166 S” _

“A _ what now?”, _ Daichi asks him and Suga rolls his eyes.

“An old _ Ferrari”, _ Suga grins. “Build around 1948”

“Who lets a teen learn driving in an old-timer?”, is the logical follow-up question, Daichi can’t keep himself from asking. “I mean _ I know jack shit about cars, _ but like: _ Aren’t those super special?” _

Suga laughs at his obviously scandalized face, but then he graciously explains himself: “Matsun’s uncle collects old-timers, so when we were kids, we used to hang around the hangar in spring and help him polish them. He says _ they need to be used to keep their spirit alive. _ That’s also why I made my pilot’s license, so I can take out the _ Fokker” _

“Seriously, I am about _ 90 per cent _ convinced _ you are messing with me _ \- you have a pilot's license but not a driver‘s license?”, Daichi gawks and Suga’s cheeks flame up. “And also _ who the hell _ calls his aircraft _ ‘Fucker’?” _

_“Fokker,_ Daichi!”, Suga laughs out loud. _“Fokker, _with _two_ _‘k’s_ \- not Fucker! But to be honest: _Traffic stresses me out”,_ he admits reluctantly. “So I only ever drive on the track and I don’t need a license there! But in the sky it’s just... _me”,_ and he looks down at the table, his face turning incredibly soft.

“Is his uncle _ Tadashi Yanai?”, _ Daichi asks blandly and Suga returns back to his full laugh. 

“No”

“You _ sure?” _

_ “Pretty”, _ and he glances over at him, with that gleeful sparkle in his eyes, beauty mark twinkling in the soft light of the bar.

“Okay, _ so just to recap: _ You have a pilot's license, you know karate and you are on a first-name basis with Oikawa Tooru, an award-winning bartender, an award-winning photographer if I looked up the right Akaashi Keiji, a member of the national volleyball team, whatever the scary lady does but I assume she is somewhat important, the governor, Kyoto Cop and let me guess - _ Madonna”, _ Daichi counts down on his fingers.

Suga blushes violently. “I _ don’t _ know Madonna”, he clarifies after clearing his throat.

_ “How dare you _ \- get out!”, Daichi shakes his head and the other huffs out in feigned affront.

Then he takes a sip out of his drink before dropping the bomb. “I _ did _ shake hands with _ Cher _ once, though”

_ “Cher?”, _ Daichi asks.

A nod.

“As in: _ The Cher?” _

Nod.

“The _ actual _ Cher?”

Nod and a cheeky grin.

“And you are _ sure you’re not famous _ because now would be the time to tell me so I can go haul my ass out a window before I make a fool out of myself any longer”, Daichi deadpans, gesticulating over to the sign that reads _ ‘Roof-Deck’. _

Suga sighs, lips curling up, but he solemnly shakes his head, soft bangs bouncing gently. 

_ “I’m no one” _

“Sure as shit doesn’t sound like that”

“I just know a lot of people”, the other shrugs, fidgeting with the glass in his hand.

Daichi takes a long gulp out of his own alcohol.

“Wait you said something about _ a hangar?” _

“Well if you got three historic aeroplanes, eight old-timers and a train, you gotta put that stuff somewhere?”

“Oh, _ so you’re a conductor too?” _

_ “Nah, _ it’s an old British model and doesn’t fit Japanese tracks. She’d have to be remodelled but that would take away what makes her so special, so we are considering to donate her to a museum, where she’ll be seen like she deserves”, Suga flaps his hands. “But that would have been nice - _ to become a conductor, _ I mean!”

“And you are _ sure _ you’re not famous?”, Daichi narrows his eyes, squinting suspiciously.

Suga laughs again. _ “Nope, _ Matsun’s family is just loaded”

_ “Seems legit”, _ Daichi shrugs. _ And explains a lot, _ but he doesn’t say that out loud. His dislike of the tall man doesn’t have to get in the way of the great time he is having!

Once again Daichi is tempted to ask _ how exactly _ Suga and Matsukawa are related, since he noticed the other referring to the dark-haired as his brother but to the family as _ ‘Matsukawa’s’ _ rather than _ ‘my’ _ or _ ‘our’ _ family.

But he remembers the cold, hard and slightly hurt pinch on the others face, the last time he questioned their relationship and not even the alcohol warming him from the inside and making his mouth faster than his brain, can convince him to risk that reaction again!

“So this place, _ it’s awesome!”, _ Daichi, therefore, decides to change the topic. “How did you find it?”

“Oh umn, _ Semi”, _ Suga laughs out. “At first we went to a lot of different places but when Tooru became like, _ really _ famous, _ not just among volleyball stans, _ we started having troubles with the regular clubs. He has the tendency to develop a rat-tail. But Semi is a co-owner of this place, so with some funding and Issei getting them a good bouncer, we managed to negotiate ourselves permanent residence. Also, Tooru is saving them the cost for advertisement and word sorta made the round, so now a bunch of other celebrities pop in once in a while”, he explains. “They have good business and we have a nice club to hand out in”

“Why exactly does Matsukawa know nightclub bouncers?”, Daichi questions.

“Oh, _ from work _ \- his wife had some sort of nerve problems and Issei did this one medication study which ended up helping her”, Suga flaps his hands around vaguely. “Like her insurance would not have paid for it, but he put her on the trial anyways, for free and now she’s pretty healthy again. And Besart is a nice guy, so he didn’t hesitate a second when we asked him if he wanted a new job”

“You go _ on some weird adventures”, _ Daichi chuckles with a disbelieving shake of his head.

“Well, that is the funny thing about knowing many people:_ They tend to drag you along, _ whether you want to or not”, the other laughs.

“Kuro said something of the sorts”, Daichi admits with a defeated sigh, but his lips curl into a smile.

“He’s an annoying shit, but believe me when I say: In this _ and only this instant _ he is right”, and Sugawara finishes his drink with one long slurp. _ “Ah, _ I needed this!”, he sighs contently.

They end up talking about _ everything _ and _ nothing at all, _ Daichi tells Suga about his sisters and more or less interesting events that occurred at work while Suga offers embarrassing stories of his friends.

_ Some, _ like the bizarre tale of Oikawa’s desperate attempts to grow a beard, _ amuse him. _

_ Others, _ like the scandalous retelling of Suga and Bokuto getting lost in Singapore and befriending a whole dozen prostitutes until they were picked up by a very unpleased Akaashi and definitely too eager Hanamki, _ don’t surprise Daichi in the least. _

_ And most, _ like the mysterious tale of Iwaizumi and Matsukawa, disappearing for a week and returning with a baby elephant they refused to tell where they got it from, _ just have him confused. _

And the longer they talk, the further Daichi leans against the counter, the warmer his chest gets and the fuzzier his brain gets until the only thing he can think about is how it must feel to just… _ wrap his arms around Suga _ and take a deep breath of his hair. In his imagination, those silver waves smell like starlight. _ But starlight doesn’t smell _ and that thankfully makes it easier to separate drunken nonsense from constructive thoughts… or maybe… _ does it? _

_ To be entirely honest, _ his judgment may not be as clear as he pretends it is. Because he is pretty sure that the further the night progresses, the closer Suga inches until eventually, his knee is leaning against Daichi’s and it just feels so good!

_ This is just his gods damn knee, you dunce!, _ the last rational parts of his brain scold him. That is _ nothing _ to get excited over, that is nothing he _ wants _ to get excited over!

He doesn’t… _ he can’t… _

His thoughts are definitely not straight anymore. Daichi isn’t drunk, but all these fruity cocktails have made him a whole different kind of tipsy than the beer he usually consumes would have and so his brain is out to destroy itself.

One part is pointing out that little less than 5 hours ago, he saw Suga get out of someone else’s car. The car of someone he used to be together with and… _ and the bruises… _ Daichi tries, he really, _ really tries, _ but Suga’s turtleneck isn’t helping, because he knows _ what _ is underneath and he knows _ who _ put them there and he knows that for Suga this kind of thing is normal and he knows that it’s only physical and he knows that… _ he knows nothing! _

Because in a bitter fight with those petty, moral, _ frankly just uncomfortably condescending _ thoughts, there are the sweet songs that point out every laugh, every smile, every reflection of the soft bar light in hazel eyes and every twinkle of that beauty-mark he _ just can’t take his eyes off. _

And in the middle of all is the unhinged part of himself, the one that has gotten friendly with the alcohol and is questioning whether _ any of this is important as long as the night doesn’t ever end, _ so he can just stare at Suga and the silver-haired will stay here, right by his side, forever.

But the night _ does end _ and Daichi _ does _ have to face the future.

When they get their coats, Suga gently bumps their elbows, grins: “That was nice, thank you for coming tonight… I, umn… _ I like your company”, _ and for a moment their eyes linger in one another’s, then someone pushes through between them, Suga is pulled along by Saru and Bokuto and Daichi loses sight of him.

His heart and head however _ don’t. _

So he has to ask himself _ what is wrong with him _ and once out in the ice-cold night, his thought arrange themselves in a slightly more manageable way.

It takes him all the strength he has left in his sorry, confused and aching bones, to come to the conclusion that - _ and he knows if this is his next step, he is really out of options and pretty desperate _ \- Kuro might be right.

He takes his friend aside at the train station and does his best not to wear the shame so openly. He feels incredibly inappropriate asking, but at the same time, he scolds himself for being such a prude!

“Can you tell me… _ about you and…”, _ he swallows back hard. “Suga!?”

Tetsuro looks surprised for a moment, then he ruffles his bedhead and sighs: “You _ sure, _ you want me to?”

_ “No”, _ Daichi confesses. “I really _ don’t _ want to hear it, but… I think I _ need _ to”, he bites his lips, but then he nods a bit stronger and reaffirms: “I need to know”

“Well, I sorta offered, so where do I start… there isn’t really _ much _ to tell”, Kuro sighs, taking a quick glance around if anyone is eavesdropping, but they have managed to gain comfortable distance from the main group. Not enough to be suspicious, but so far they are out of the roughest turmoil. “Okay, so we met at the Interhigh Tournament, I had a slight crush on him from day one, because seriously, _ how can you not have one _ and we kept contact after that, texting occasionally. _ Skip a couple of years _ and we met at a Volley game, I was there to cheer on Bo and he was there for Oikawa. That was the time when all of us started reuniting with a lot of old contacts from High School and in the beginning, we were just friends because Suga had a boyfriend - like a _ serious _ boyfriend!”

Daichi listens, fingers flexing in his pockets.

“But then _ everything went down the drain, _ Suga got broken up with, he was depressed and I was pretty pent up because my dates were all shit, so we just thought: _ Hey, we make awesome friends, we both need some togetherness and have always had some kind of attraction for one another, so why not try to upgrade that to boyfriends!?”, _ Kuro explains with a flap of his hand. “And in the beginning, it was awesome, but… after a couple of months, _ we both _ just realized that while it had been a fun endeavour, it was not what either of us really wanted. And in all honesty, when I think about it now, we never even got to _ ‘boyfriends’! _ We were _ always _ more of a _ ‘friends with benefits’ _ thing. I had a crush on him, but it wasn’t love and Suga felt the same. So we spend seven fun months together and then went straight back to being platonic friends - _ today we just laugh about it. _ A little later I reunited with Kenma and Suga, _ well…”, _ he trails off.

Daichi nods and bites on his lip.

_ “Hey”, _ Tetsuro pats his shoulder. “He likes you! As in: _ Really likes you. _ I’ve seen Suga flirt up close hundreds of times _ and this isn’t it! _ He’s just… _ afraid, _ because honestly, he has _ a shit ton of baggage _ but…”, the other stops and rakes his hand through his hair once more. _ “Listen: _ Koshi is a good guy and he cares! So don’t let yourself be intimidated by his… _ escapades. _ You’re cute together”

“You ruined it”, Daichi swats at the other, trying to suppress the turmoil in his stomach.

_ “Allways a pleasure”, _ the shithead cackles and they catch up to the rest when the train rolls into the station.

And now that he heard it from someone he, _ to some degree, _ trusts, Daichi can relax a little. He knows, that once he wakes up, he will have to do some serious thinking, but for now, he can enjoy the last tunes of the night without guilt, he can relish the warm fuzzy feeling the alcohol has coated him in and he can laugh at the jokes the others make.

And that _ is a lot more _ than he has managed in the past seven years.

The pain, the pinch, the guilt - _ they are all still there _ and he will have to face them eventually, but not right now and for once not because he is in denial - well, _ not only _ because he is denial - but because he is _ actually somewhat happy. _

*******

_  
“How are you doing that?”, Iwaizumi just had to ask.  
_

_ “Doing _ what?”, _ Matsukawa looked up from his paper. _

_ “Why is your drawing _ so smooth?”, _ he clarified his question and looked at his own, wobbly lines. He was starting to think, he should have joined Tooru in the music class instead of picking art. _

_ “You use too much pressure”, the other shrugged. “Try to… _ build a silhouette _ with very thin lines and don’t start off with thick ones. Let is be messy and then later you can clean out” _

_ Iwaizumi flexed his fingers around his pencil. _ “Aha”, _ he nodded. _

_ Matsukawa made another swift stroke, then he halted, sighed and looked up. “Did you get a single word of what I just said?” _

“Not one”,_ Iwaizumi admitted without shame. _

_ Big, amygdalae eyes stared at him, tired and deadpan and the other looked very much like he was having an inner conflict over whether he had already fulfilled his duties by answering _ one _ stupid question or if he should help him further. _

“Pretty please”,_ Iwaizumi put his hands together in a careful beg. _

“New page”,_ the curly-haired instructed him with a sigh and Hajime complied eagerly. _

_ “What kind of food do you want to draw?”, he went on. _

“None”,_ Iwaizumi suggested dryly and the faintest of smiles curled up on the other’s lips. _

“Fair enough_ \- then do an apple. That’s basically just a circle” _

_ Iwaizumi, once again, wondered if it was not too late to switch his creative subject, while the other was directing him through a quick succession of steps on how to draw. _

_ He was halfway through _ ‘respecting organic and imperfect shapes’, _ whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean, when he noticed his instructor had stopped instructing and he looked up to see the other staring over at the door of the art room. _

_ It was Sugawara who had just entered almost half an hour late and the teacher noticed him too. _

_ She got up and meet him halfway. Sugawara bowed and what he was saying sounded like an apology, but Iwaizumi couldn’t catch the reason he gave for being late to class. Hajime wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but there seemed to be a slightly pinched note to his face as he talked. _

_ But _ whatever his reason, _ it must have been something valid, because their teacher gave him a reassuring smile and made a loose gesture across the room. _

_ Iwaizumi made a snap decision and raised his hand, waving at the silver-haired boy, who caught the motion and with a hesitant lick of his lips straightened his back, walking over to them. _

_ “Wanna sit _ with us?”, _ he offered as soon as Sugawara was in earshot. _

_ “Only if you are sure I am not imposing” _

“You’re not”,_ Matsukawa shrugged without looking up from his sketchbook. _

_ And with that, the other gingerly sat down on one of the vacant chairs at their table. _

_ “Everything okay?”, Iwaizumi asked the light-haired. He still hadn’t quite given up in his pursuit to befriend him. _

“Yes”,_ Sugawara said, tone all gentle, but there was a furrow in his eyebrows that painted a whole different picture. _

_ However, the moment he looked up from his bag, putting his drawing supplies on the table, the pinched expression was entirely smoothed out and he even granted them a small smile. _

_ Iwaizumi would have really liked to yell out: _ Bullshit!, _ but he didn’t, for rather obvious reasons. _

_ “What are you even drawing?”, he decided to move the conversation, in order not to be awkward and looked over to Matsukawa once more. _

“Burrito”,_ he mumbled, chin resting in his hand, adding fine shadows to what Iwaizumi now identified to be lettuce. _

_ “And you? _ Any idea yet?”, _ he went back to Sugawara who simply stared at his blank paper. _

_ “I have not determined it yet… an _ Onigiri _ perhaps?”, the pale boy answered, hesitantly taking up his pencil. “I have to admit, drawing is not… _not my strong suit”

“Welcome to the team”,_ Iwaizumi informed him dryly and found himself rewarded with another honest, upwards quirk of Sugawara’s lips, something that satisfied him more than he would have guessed. _

_ “Start with a triangle”, Matsukawa offered and Hajime rolled his eyes. _“I saw that!”

_ His face turned a shade redder and he focused back on his apple. _

_ “Then why did you choose art?”, he eventually asked Sugawara, who had started on his triangle. _

_ “Oh I… guess I just wanted to _ try out something new”, _ the silver-haired shrugged. “I am surprised to find you here, though, Iwaizumi. With _ your _ voice, I’d assumed you would be in the music class” _

_ “With… _ what is that supposed to mean?”, _ he sat back up straight and pulled a contemplative grimace. _

_ “That you have a pleasant tonus and with a few lung exercises you could surely become a very good singer”, Sugawara met his eyes for a short moment, then he turned his head away. _ “I am sorry, _ that was out of place” _

“No!”,_ Iwaizumi called out quickly. “I was just surprised - that’s the _ first time _ someone said _I have a nice voice”

_ Was it weird that he felt a little bit flattered by that? _ Singing… _ it is not a hobby he has ever considered. He always believed singers to be either pretentious or pent up - _ nothing in between. _ But… _

_ “Do _ you _ sing?” _

“I have tried”,_ Sugawara admitted. “But I am no good”, he said it with a sad little sigh, unenthusiastically placing another line, giving his onigiri a rounder shape. _

_ Iwaizumi went back to stare at the outlines of his apple. He never found any sense in art. It was nice to look at, certainly, just as poetry was nice to read, but all this structuring and analyzing _killed the fun.

_ What kind of substantial skills was he gaining from drawing food? _The educational system was a true wonder.

“Hey,_ do you want to lunch with us later?”, he suggested casually, looking back up at Sugawara. _

_ The pale boy hesitated, pencil hovering over his paper. _

_ And Iwaizumi _ knew _ he would decline again, already cursing Tooru for putting up such a hostile demeanour towards Sugawara wherever they met, but to his great surprise, _Matsukawa came to his aid.

_ “You know”, he started, “Just say _ ‘yes’, _ cause he won’t leave you alone until you do. _I speak from experience”

“Hey!”,_ Hajime protested. “You could just _ leave, _ you know, if you don’t want to hang out with me?” _

_ “And let you steal my spot? _ Oh no, _ I found that place in the back yard _first!”

_ Iwaizumi just shook his head in disbelief. _ “Unbelievable!”, _ he mumbled, then he redirected his attention to Sugawara. “So umn… _you wanna?”

_ “Sounds like I don’t have a choice”, the other mused, but once the bell rang, he followed them still. Hesitant, _ but he did _ \- and Iwaizumi had a good feeling about it, the same you get when you finally insert the last piece of a puzzle and the picture was perfect. _It just felt right!

*******

Suga sighs.

He tried, he _ really, _ really _ did. _

Ignoring Daichi for the main part of the evening and instead hanging around with someone else to establish that the other is really not that important to him. _ Check. _

Not giving in to any of the charmers and thereby outing himself as the catastrophic slut he really is. _ Check. _

Being all casual and cool once approaching the man he has a massive crush on. _ Check _ and a mental pat on the back.

And then blowing it completely, getting all soft and googly-eyed and charmed and touchy.... _ check, check, checkedy check! _

Suga sighs. His only luck last night was Semi giving them the exact right drinks, covering up his awkward behaviour and making Daichi too dizzy to pay too much attention to it.

He runs his fingers over the next fabric - _ too scratchy _ \- and sighs again.

“What’s with all the sighing?”, Kuro asks, flipping through more cloths.

_ “Global Warming!?”, _ Suga suggests and earns a deadpan stare.

“You are right, _ Daichi is dangerously hot”, _ the other shrugs and Koshi stumbles over his own feet with a _ guawk, _ earning a mischievous cackle from his alleged friend.

“I have _ no idea _ what you are talking about and you should be _ ashamed _ of yourself for ridiculing an actual crisis that is causing natural disaster and the deaths of thousands of people!”, he clears his throat, but his voice is still a whole octave too high. “Never mind all of the bees and the seals and polar bears and birds - _ do you want them dead?” _

“The bears _ yes, _ actually”, Tetsuro shudders.

Suga rolls his eyes. _ Still not over his stupid phobia, the dickhead. _

“Tell me again _ why _ we are shopping for scarfs?”, Kuro asks instead of engaging in further banter and thankfully drops the Daichi topic.

“You know _ damn well why”, _ Koshi retorts.

_ “Yeah, _ but I want _ you _ to say it, so I can make some remark about how this is _ stupid _ and you can’t keep gifting Matsukawa a scarf _ every year _ because _ no one _ has a use for so many scarfs. I am trying to build a conversation here gods damn it, _ cooperate with me, _ Koshi”

Suga rolls his eyes lengthy and moves on.

“Could you not have done this with Tooru? I kinda hoped to spend my day off doing other stuff”

_ “Like what?”, _ Suga huffs out. He is never going to shop gifts with Oikawa! _ Other clothes _ \- yes. _ Gifts _ \- not ever again!

“I don’t know. _ Annoy Bo at training and get myself kicked out again?”, _ Kuro proposes.

“Well, _ I _ need you as reference for length and -”

_ “Width?”, _ the bedhead raises his eyebrows with a suggestive gleam in his eyes.

Suga stops short and blinks at him deadpan. “Yes - _ of the scarf, _ Tetsuro!”, then shakes his head with another, even lengthier eye-roll and mutters under his breath: _ “It’s not my fault you are all such fucking giants!” _

_ “Aw, _ it’s okay, _ little one, _ I am watching over you - _ Literally!” _

_ “Careful, _ I may be small, but _ my fist is also at a perfect height for punching your balls”, _ and Suga cracks his knuckles.

The lady scouting patterns on the other side of the display case looks up in disturbance. But she reminds Koshi of his task and he steels his shoulders, continuing to review the options critically.

_ Too soft - too green - not green enough - weird bobbles at the side - vomit-inducing pattern - too artsy - too bland - _ … actually not bad.

He lifts his hand and snaps his fingers with command.

Kuro sighs, but he obeys and allows Suga to drape the scarf he has picked around his shoulders. Then he takes a step back and throws himself into pose.

Suga shakes his head, but he can’t help the little smile.

_ “Twirl, _ minion”, he makes a grand gesture with his hand and Kuro performs for him, dramatically throwing his hair back as he comes to a stop.

“Hm not bad, but _ you could use your hip more, _ you know? _ Make it slutty!”, _ Suga grins.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time… _ will there be one?”, _ Kuro raises his eyebrow.

“Oh _ definitely! _ Now that I see it on a person, this purple is _ way _ too shiny”, he answers with a strong nod, taking the scarf and putting it back in its place.

“You people are weird”, Kuro mumbles.

_ “Old news”, _ Suga laughs and the other bumps their shoulders in playful banter.

“I think Matsukawa needs some flash. Here, _ how about this?”, _ and he presents Koshi with the _ ugliest _ scarf he has ever seen.

“The only place we are taking _ that thing _ is the crematorium! It will give Tooru a nervous breakdown!”, he gags.

But _ flash… _ actually not a bad idea. With a closer look, he strides along the selection, thinking.

_ “Hah”, _ he grins as he makes his choice and throws it over to his friend, who does him the honours. _ “Perfect!”, _ Suga claps his hands.

_ “You’re kidding, _ aren’t you?”, Kuro looks down at himself.

_ “Not a bit, _ that is the one”

_ “Weeeeeeiiiiiiird”, _ the other breathes out silently and Suga whacks him in the shoulder with a half amused, half offended huff.

They take the scarf to the counter, where Koshi pays and watches how the employee of the boutique carefully packs the cloth in brown paper. He will do the present wrapping himself.

“So, _ where to now?”, _ his companion asks once they are back outside in whatever this season this is now. _ Global warming indeed! _

_ “I don’t know, _ that was all I needed”, Suga shrugs.

_ “Soooooo”, _Kuro raises his eyebrow suggestively.

_ “Starbucks!”, _ Suga nods and the other grins as they make their way.

“Hey, _ thanks, _ by the way”, Tetsuro grins at him after a little walk.

“For what?”, Suga asks.

_ “Getting Daichi out of the house. _ I think it did him real good that you invited him to the Club”

Koshi feels heat rise in his cheeks. “Well, _ I owed him”, _ he tries to shrug it off.

Kuro sighs. “Come one, _ man. _ I notice how you pine after one another _ and so does literally everyone else” _

Instead of an answer, Suga just steps on his toes as hard as he can without slipping on the wet walkway.

Kuro lets out a pained _ ‘yip’ _ and limps for several steps.

“I. Am. _ Not. _ Pining”, Suga declares. _ It is waaaaaaay worse than that, _ he silently ads.

_ “If you say so, _ but he still likes you”, the bedhead gives him a lopsided, innocent smile.

Koshi knows it’s a trap and still walks into it head-on because those words make him feel _ very soft. _

_ “You don’t know that”, _ he mumbles.

“Out of everyone, I know him the longest so yeah,_ I think I can say that I do indeed know” _

_ “Shut up” _

_ “Seriously, _ Koshi! I don’t know what happened with him, he wasn’t this pent up back in high-school, but when _ you two _ hang out, he’s more like the Daichi I know. _ And also he’s hot, _so you should go for it!”, Kuro gives their elbows an encouraging bump.

“And what if you are wrong?”, the bile rising from his stomach makes his voice crack.

“Counter question: _ What If I am not?” _

_ Then I might not die miserable and alone, _ Suga thinks for himself. _ No, _ he can’t risk that, he can’t risk Daichi! He likes him too much and the eternal pain of pining after him is still better than the devastation of losing him.

Because he _ will _ lose! He _ always _ does, no matter how hard he tries, in the end, he is always alone. _ So yeah, _he stopped trying for a reason!

_ “Suga”, _ his friend’s voice is so soft, he has to give in and look up at him, at the sleazy face with the bad hair and the gleaming eye. “Trust me, _ Daichi likes you _ and he’s a great guy! _ When have I ever let you down?” _

“Do you seriously want me to start listing things?”, he deadpans.

“You are _ just not vibing today!”, _ the other sighs as if he was carrying the weight of the world.

_ “What’s with all the sighing?”, _ Koshi mocks him.

“My friends are all idiots!”, Tetsuro blandly tells him. _ “And also Global Warming” _

*******

_  
It didn’t really surprise Iwaizumi, when Sugawara sought out Matsukawa’s quiet presence.  
_

_ The lanky boy’s silence was _ in every way better _ than Tooru’s constant, displeased squints or Hanamaki’s overly physical approach to showing appreciation. _

_ Hajime had no problem with a ruff elbow bump or a friendly slap square over his back, but the smaller boy seemed to oppose any kind of physical contact. Or maybe he was just overwhelmed. Their merry round was a bit much, _ yeah, _ he’ll admit it. _

_ But _ then again, _ he stayed with them and that gave Iwaizumi a bit of hope, that maybe they weren’t that bad after all. _

_ And before he knew, Sugawara had become another, quiet but _ indispensable _ component of their lunch gang, idly sitting next to Matsukawa and with respectful distance to Oikawa, always eating a fulminant, homemade meal and never minding to share it with them. _

_ Matsukawa and Hanamaki seemed to enjoy the silver-haired’s company, whereas Tooru did not appreciate it _at all.

_ “Okay, _ spill it, _ Shittykawa! _ What _ is your problem with him?”, Iwaizumi finally snapped after a month of tension. _

_ “I _ don’t trust _ him”, the other lifted his chin in defiance. _

_ “You are _ paranoid!”, _ Hajime shook his head unnerved. _

_ “He is _ hiding _ something”, his best friend insisted and Iwaizumi groaned. _

_ “So what?” _

_ The brunet answered with an offended huff. “Well, I just _ don’t _ trust him” _

_ Iwaizumi didn’t continue the argument - _it wouldn’t lead anywhere.

_ Instead, he let out a deep sigh and rolled his shoulders, climbing up the stairs to the club room. _

_ Something told him to listen to Oikawa’s instincts. After all, he had made peace with Hanamaki and Matsukawa hanging around. _ Only Sugawara _ seemed to be a thorn in his side. _

_ Then again, there was literally _ no reason _ not to trust or not to like the silver-haired boy! _

_ He went in first and held open the door for the other. _

_ Their friends were already inside changing for training, as were some of the more annoying second-years. _

_ “Hey”, Iwaizumi greeted them before opening his own locker. _

_ “Yo”, Hanamaki returned his usual, shiteating grin. “Long time no see - _a whole twenty minutes”

_ “Well _ sue me _ for being polite”, Hajime shot back, throwing his bag into the metal cabin and taking off his blazer, hanging it up, before starting to button open his shirt. _

_ “No, _ no, _ I appreciate the gesture. As a matter of fact, we were worried sick! _ Tell him, _ Issei” _

_ Matsukawa turned his head, blinking at them deadpan. “Still _ Matsukawa _ for you” _

_ “Now that”, and Hanamaki placed his hand over his heart, “is _ just _ cold!” _

_ Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and shook out his sport shirt, before starting to push it over his head. _

_ It was halfway through the motion when he noticed something and once it fit over his torso he craned his head and arm to catch a better look. _

_ “Oh _ fuck”, _ he whispered. _

_ The seam under his right armpit had torn open wide. _How the hell did that happen?

_ “Iwa-Chan?”, Tooru looked up in confusion, shirt half-open. _

_ Instead of an answer, Hajime turned to show him the dilemma. “My mom is going to _ kill _ me” _

_ “That”, Hanamaki pulled a grimace, _ “Looks bad! _ How did you do that?” _

_ “I _ don’t know”, _ Iwaizumi said aggravatedly, “That wasn’t there when I took it off yesterday!”, he grunts. _

_ He was about to have a small crisis since his spare shirt was at home, still hanging to dry, when a discrete huff caught his attention. _

_ “May _ I _ have a look?”, Sugawara asked, already having changed his clothes. _

_ “Yeah umn…”, and Hajime turned again, so the other could see the tear. _

_ The smaller boy leaned forwards a little, tilting his head as if he was inspecting the damage, then he looked up at him, blinking gently. “Take it off” _

“What?”,_ he yipped. _

_ “Your _ shirt”, _ Sugawara said, as if that was only natural, before adding. “So I can fix it. _We have a sewing kit here”

_ “You… _ oh!”, _ Hajime felt very stupid, “You don’t have to - it’s not the end of the world” _

_ “No, _ that _ would be global warming”, the other mused, “But _ if _ you train with it like this, then the tear will widen. It is no big deal, _ really, _ I’ll be quick” _

_ “Okay… _ thanks”, _ Iwaizumi gave in after another moment of hesitation, then he started to take the shirt back off, as carefully as possible, while Sugawara walked over to the shelf dominating one end of the room. _

_ The silver-haired boy scanned it, then he started to stretch up to his toe-tips, reaching for a yellow box, with a small ache, before sinking back down on his feet, wearing a very sour look. _

_ Iwaizumi was pretty sure he heard something muttered about _ ‘Stupid, tall-ass tree people’ _ and it put a mischievous grin on his face. _

_ With a grunt, the other boy stretched upwards again, trying to pull himself up on one of the boards. _

“Here”,_ Matsukawa eventually had mercy on him, effortlessly reaching over the other’s head, handing him the item he wanted. _

_ “I could have done that myself”, Sugawara straightened his shoulders, lifting his chin in defiance, before eventually admitting at least partial defeat and tacking on a: “But _thank you”

_ “No problem”, Matsukawa just shrugged and the other carried the box over to the table under the window, drawing himself a chair and stretching out his hand in demand. _

_ Iwaizumi joined him and handed him his shirt. _

_ Now that he held the cloth in his hands, he turned it inside-out and gave the torn seam a closer look. _

_ “Quite _ peculiar”, _ he mumbled with a shrug, then he put is aside, opened the yellow box and started to rustle through the sewing supplies, loosely flying around in it, eventually picking a white thread and a needle. _

“Hey,_ what are you twerps doing?” _

_ Iwaizumi gnashed his teeth. He always tried not to be too negative but _ damn it, _ he hated these particular four second-years. Not even on the regular team and still strutting around like they owned the place. _

“Seriously?_ You’re _ sewing?”, _ one of them laughed, leaning over the table as if private space didn’t exist. _

_ “Let me guess: _ Mama’s favourite”, _ another mocked. _

_ It was the way Sugawara’s hand quivered for a moment and his lips turned into a paper-thin line, that made a shiver run over Iwaizumi’s back. _An angry shiver.

_ “Good to know though, I have a hole in my sock”, the first cackled. “Fix that for me, girly, _ will ya”, _ reaching over the table, trying to pinch Sugawara’s cheek. _

_ That was _ it! _ The chair he’d been sitting on almost toppled over when Iwaizumi jumped up and slapped the arm away before it could reach the other. _

“Back off,_ asshole”, he hissed. _

“Wow”,_ the second-year took a step back, “Calm down buddy, _ that’s no way to speak to your senpai”

“I’m sorry”,_ Iwaizumi gnashes, before taking a deep breath, “Please leave him alone, _asshole”

_ “Thin ice, _ twerp” _ , one of the other upperclassmen squared his shoulders, probably trying to intimidate him, using his superior height. _

_ It _ might _ have worked if Iwaizumi wasn’t _ twice as buff _ as him and not _ in the least _ impressed and so he simply lifted his chin in defiance, asking them to make a move. _

“Oooooh,_ well who would have guessed: _ Mr Buff has a soft spot for the Pretty Boy”, _ the first crooned and Iwaizumi felt colour rise into his face, suddenly very aware of the fact he was shirtless. _

_ The rest of the stupid faces let out a collective laugh. _

_ “What are you gonna do next? _Do his laundry and knit him a sweater?”

_ Iwaizumi’s hands flexed angrily. _

“Come on,_ we are just making fun, _ no harm in that”, _ one of the others patted his shoulder in something that was supposed to be a friendly gesture, but it came over just as mean as it was meant to. _

_ “A _ joke!”, _ Hanamaki called out from behind them, interrupting whatever would have followed, slapping his thigh. “Silly me, I thought you were just _ degenerated, _ but it was a joke - well ha _ ha **ha,** _ I am laughing so much, do you see me laughing?”, he went on, voice completely plain and dry. _

_ “Your jokes _ suck” _ , Matsukawa joined in deadpan, having unfolded his full height, now towering behind the second-years, outdoing all four of them by a head or more. _

“Hey Sugawara,_ looks like you have quite the fan club. Can you even _ fit _ this many dicks?” _

_ Something in Hajime _ snapped _ and with a furious growl, he drew back his fist. _

_ “Iwaizumi-San! _ Don’t!”, _ suddenly an arm was wrapped around his torso, pulling him back and breaking the red haze over his eyes. _

_ With a heavy breath, he realized it was the silver-haired himself who kept him from punching that smug asshole. _

_ “It’s not worth it!”, Sugawara gave him a stern look, with a slight shake of his head. _

“Adorable”,_ the second of the upperclassmen snickered and high-fived his fuckface friend, as if _ that _ had been their best punchline. _

“They”,_ Sugawara added, giving them a disgusted look, “Are _ not _ worth it”, then he sat back down, taking needle and cloth back up. “Yes, I am sewing and I do know how to knit as a matter of fact”, he said after a second of silence. “If you have a problem with that, then you are free to leave and continue your unimportant, skill-less lives, forever dependent on people smarter than you. Make fun of me if you can’t help yourselves, I have better things to do than care” _

_ “Welcome to _ T.E.D Talks”, _ Hanamaki jovially announced. _

_ “And _ now get lost”, _ Matsukawa added dryly. _

_ “You’re running your mouthes a lot _ now, _ but next year at the latest, you’re gonna _ know your place _ in the food chain around here!”, the leader sneered. _

“Possibly”,_ it was the first thing Tooru said in all of this, having continued to change calmly, but now he was facing the second-years and there was an icy shade in his eyes. “But if you nine-day wonders are _ all your grade has to offer, _ then in a year, _ we _ will be the ones who run this place! So should think _ twice _ before talking like that to your _future superiors!”

_ The older students just looked at him, mouth slightly agape. _

“Outsassed by your underclassmen_ \- not looking good for your alleged social status”, Hanamaki grinned, looking at his fingernails. _

“Tsk”,_ the leader harrumphed. _ “Come on guys, _ we’re gonna be late. _ Twats _ don’t understand any humour any more” _

_ And with plenty of exchanged angry stares, they strutted out of the club room. _

“Jerks”,_ Hamaki spat out the second the door fell closed. _

_ Iwaizumi could only agree! But instead of muttering every single insult he could think off, he turned around. _

_ “Hey, _ you okay?”, _ he asked hesitantly. _

_ Sugawara didn’t reply for several long seconds, concentrating on his stitching, all calm on the surface, but Hajime could see the tension in his hands and jaws. _

“Yes”,_ the other boy eventually said, reaching for some little scissors and cutting the thread he just secured in a tight knot. “It will hold for now, but you should still ask someone to go over it again with a machine”, he told him, orderly placing all utensils he had used back into the box. _

_ “I’m sorry”, Iwaizumi bit his lips. _

_ “For what?”, the smaller boy asked. _

_ “Well, I… if I hadn’t _ torn _ the shirt-” _

_ “I _ offered _ to fix it! Do you honestly think this was the _ first time _ someone has made fun of me for knowing handicrafts? It is not your fault, they replaced their brains with the pumpkins from their first Halloween and never bothered to get fresh ones”, Sugawara interrupted him. “So I suggest you change or else we will _ indeed _ be late for practice!” _

_ He turned away, carrying the yellow box back over to the shelf, this time dragging a chair with him, to climb up on and put the sewing supplies back himself. _

_ Iwaizumi felt a lump in his throat, but he did as he was told and hastily put on his shorts and shirt. _

_ Sugawara went to pick up his bottle, but once he held it in his hands, he hesitated. _

_ “Thank you”, he eventually said, looking at the floor. _ “For standing up. _ It wasn’t necessary but… I appreciate it. Just don’t try to punch people - I don’t want to be the reason you get yourself expelled!”, he breathed out. _

_ “That _ was _ rather stupid, Iwa-Chan”, Tooru nodded. _

_ “Well, he would have _ deserved _ it”, Hajime gruffed back, snatching his pullover. _

“True,_ but you also would have gotten into one hell of a trouble”, Hanamaki made a floppy hand motion. _

_ “Hey, _ who’s side are you on?” _ , Iwaizumi snapped. _

“Yours”,_ Matsukawa patted his shoulder. “But _ next time, _ get him alone and behind the old gym, where no one will find him for a while and he will spend hours trying to find the loose teeth between the white pebbles” _

_ All four of them stopped short and looked at the tall boy in varying states of distress. _

“What?”,_ he asked with a shrug. “We’ll cover for you” _

_ “Hell _ yeah”, _ Hanamaki grinned vividly. _

_ “Please _ don’t!”, _ Sugawara shook his head. _

_ “Teeth can be replaced”, Tooru announced from the front of their group. _ “Pride can not. _ So I suggest we give it our best, _ score those jerseys _ and next year, when they are still warming the bench, we send Shiratorizawa to hell, go to nationals and show them they can _suck it”

“Who?_ Shiratorizawa or the second-years?”, Iwaizumi asked with a raised eyebrow. _

“All of them!”,_ Oikawa huffed. _

_ “I actually have time today, to stay longer!”, Hanamaki thought out loud. “I need to practice receives - _it still feels weird”

_ “What do you mean?”, Sugawara asked. _

_ “I played basketball in Middle School, but it started to be boring so I decided to try volleyball. Some stuff just still feels unfamiliar”, the strawberry-blond shrugged. _

“Then that settles it_ \- I’ll ask the captain for the keys”, Tooru nodded determinedly. _“Matsun?”

_ “If that means you’ll stop _ looking _ at me so judgy, then I’ll stay too”, the tall sighed languidly. _

“Hey,_ why does _ he _ get to use nicknames?”, Hanamaki complained immediately. _

_ “Because life isn’t fair”, the dark-haired deadpanned. _

“Point taken”

_ “Sugawara?”, Iwaizumi gave him an encouraging look. “We could use another setter” _

_ The silver-haired boy looked at the floor, biting his lip. _

_ They were almost at the gym. _

_ “Only if you _ want _ to”, Hajime added casually. It was clear the smaller was fighting with himself and so far he had declined every single invitation for training with them, but just as with lunching together, Iwaizumi hoped _ eventually _ the tables would turn and right now… _

_ “I assume a _ bit _ longer won’t hurt”, the silver-haired nodded and when he looked up, a faint smile curled his lips. “And I _ do _ feel like hitting stuff right now” _

“Sweet”,_ Hanamaki whistled. _

_ “We are not _ hitting _ stuff, we are _ training”, _ Oikawa huffed. _

_ “So you _ don’t _ want me to spike your tosses?”, Iwaizumi dunned him. _

_ “Just for once in your life _ be on my side, _ Iwa-Chan and _stop questioning everything I say!”

“If you say so”,_ he tried to make it sound even and casual, but the smirk betrayed Iwaizumi. _

*******

Daichi needs all the time until the following Thursday, to sort out his thoughts out and come to a conclusion: _ He still doesn’t know what the hell to do! _

But talking to Kuro helped him, so maybe…

It takes a little until the other picks up. _ “Yeah, _ Iwaizumi!?”

“Oh umn, _ it’s me, _ Daichi… umn _ Sawamura”, _ he paces up and down in his living room. It’s 10 am and he has a day off because Yui had some urgent appointment and didn’t think it would make much sense for Daichi to man the shop alone.

“Hey, _ what’s up?” _

“Listen, I erm… I know this might seem _ weird, _ but can we… _ can we talk?”, _ he fights the question over his lips.

_ “Sure, _ what about?”

He feels almost guilty. Iwaizumi sounds relaxed and unexpecting and Daichi is about to drop a bombshell on him.

_ “About Suga” _

Silence. Then a long breath rustles on the other end of the line.

_ “Parkside Diner at three, _ can you do that?”, the other’s voice is tense.

Daichi didn’t really expect Iwaizumi to do this over the phone, but the prospect of waiting, of having to work up the courage to speak about this _ again _ is turning his stomach upside down. 

But never the less, he croaks out a halfway solid: _ “Yes” _

“Alright”, and the other man hangs up on him.

He manages not to get a nervous breakdown in the five hours that follow, looks up the place Iwaizumi has named him and finds out it is a milkshake and smoothie store.

When he arrives there he gets the name _ ‘Parkside Diner’, _ though. The shop is very 70’s, very neon and very American.

Daichi takes a deep breath, stuffs his phone into the pocket of his parker and enters.

He almost gets knocked in the face by the door as he comes to a full stop, his whole being screaming at him to turn around and run!

_ But it’s too late. _ Oikawa already caught sight of him and now he is leaning back in the booth, crossing his arms over his chest with slitted eyes.

Daichi will not leave this smoothie store alive!

He isn’t even _ that surprised, _ even though he really hoped he could catch Iwaizumi alone, but somehow he knew that was an unrealistic fantasy.

Well, _ this is gonna be awkward! _

With a hard swallow, he steps inside and walks over to the table the others have chosen.

Hanamaki looks the most chill out of all of them, with his chin leaning in his hand, elbow propped up on the table, milkshake in front of him.

Oikawa too is sporting one, but it doesn’t look like he has touched it yet. 

Iwaizumi is sitting by his husband’s side, his face still as stone and _ that _ is scaring Daichi _ a lot more _ than Oikawa’s intense eyes.

It is _ even _ scaring him more than Matsukawa, slouched down across from the brunet, icily glaring at the table in front of him.

_ Yes, _ Daichi can count the remaining minutes of his life on one hand, _ two if he is extremely lucky. _

“Umn…. _ Hi”, _ he croaks out.

“Gonna get _ hot _ in that jacket”, Hamaki casually prompts him to discard it and take a seat, before taking a long, rattling slurp out his milkshake. If anything the silly noise makes the air _ even tenser. _

Daichi just nods and hangs it over the only free chair at the head of the booth, in which he then sinks down.

Matsukawa has his legs stretched out under the table, in a way, Daichi has to keep his under the chair and it makes him feel like he is back in Gradeschool, getting scolded by the teacher for doodling on his desk - _ only a lot worse! _

“You wanted to talk”, Oikawa prompts him neutrally.

_ “Yes”, _ Daichi’s head is empty. He didn’t know what exactly to do before and this whole set-up is certainly not making things better.

“Well _ go ahead _ then”, the brunet raises his eyebrow.

_ Fuck _ \- Daichi is so dead!

_ “How…”, _ he swallows again, then he licks his lips. His mouth feels dry and his ear is starting to itch, but he can’t scratch it because that would be weird. _ But I need to know!, _ he reminds himself. “How would I… _ know”, _ he goes on, fingers flexing around the edge of the table, “If… _ if Suga was serious?” _

For a long, _ long _ moment there is utter silence, even the clacking from the counter has stopped, which Daichi knows is _ impossible _ that the _ entire store is holding their breath and that everyone else has turned to stare at him specifically, _ but _ gods _ he is starting to _ sweat. _

_ “‘cuz you’re here”, _ Matsukawa then sais dryly, before standing up, grabbing his coat and stomping out.

Daichi stares after him. _ What the hell was that supposed to mean? _

Iwaizumi is the next to move, with a deep sigh.

_ “What Issei means”, _ he starts, looking after his friend with furrowed eyebrows, but doesn’t make any attempts to follow him and neither do the others, “is the fact we are even talking in the first place!”, the man leans back in his seat and looks somewhere into the ceiling. “Suga is far from settled and he… well, _ he doesn’t hold back with the casual stuff. _ But what you gotta understand is this: Koshi _ never _ introduces us to anyone he sleeps with! He picks up a chance, he goes with it and even if it lasts a little longer, he always keeps them away from us. _ He doesn’t want them to get involved, _ because that would just complicate ditching them”

Daichi nods. That _ does make sense. _

“Sawamura-San”, Oikawa leans forward. It is a dominating pose, but not aggressive enough to invade his personal space. “Be _ honest _ with me here. If Ko-Chan tried, and I mean _ really tried, _ to get into your pants, _ would he succeed?” _

Daichi’s first impulse is to yell out a scandalized _ ‘No!’, _ but the sharp eyebrow dunning him delays that answer just long enough for his brain to actually think about it.

“I don’t know”, he eventually admits a bit embarrassed, _ “Probably, _ yeah”

“Good, but _ he hasn’t tried that yet. _ It was more important to him that we get to know you and that _ we like you _ than having sex with you”, Oikawa explains and Daichi looks at his hands, cheeks flaming up.

“Imagine this as the whole _‘Meeting the family’_ thing”, Hanamaki makes a gesture over his shake. “Only that we are a _lot_ worse and a _big_ _lot_ more judgemental”

“And if you _ hurt _ him”, Oikawa smiles, “We _ will _ make you regret _ every breath you ever took in this world” _

_ “Thanks for the offer, _ but I am already doing that _ myself”, _ it slips Daichi faster than he can hold back and he immediately bites his lip once he realizes he spoke the words out loud.

For a moment there is once again utter and uncomfortable silence. _ Fuck! _

“The point is: _ He’s serious”, _ Iwaizumi eventually breaks it. 

“Then _ why…”, _ Daichi fights with himself if he really wants to ask that question, especially with Hanamaki present, but the quick glance he gives the strawberry-blond seems to be enough for the lawyer to catch his thought.

_ “Why does he whore around?”, _ he prompts thus.

Daichi can just nod. He feels like vomiting.

“Suga has a history and most of it _ ain’t pretty. _ So my take is he tries to compensate but I am his lawyer, _ not his therapist _ and frankly it is none of my business -”

Iwaizumi and Oikawa simultaneously raise their eyebrows at him.

“Okay _ fine”, _ Hanamaki throws his arms in the air. “Yeah, _ we fuck! _ He’s my friend, so if he needs a distraction and I am pent up, then I’d rather deal with it in a matter that is beneficial for both sides, than have him run around, gods know where, _ with some douche! _ It’s not like we have any romantic feelings for one another - _ it’s just about the sex and about the Doritos” _

“He’s been hurt”, Iwaizumi clarifies and after shooting his friend a sour look, he turns to look at Daichi. _ “Badly! _ And that gave him some trust-issues. He wants to be with someone, but he’s also afraid of opening up, so one-night-stands seem to be the middle ground for him”

“Then _ why don’t you -” _

“We are his _ family”, _ Oikawa’s voice has a whole new kind of intensity when he interrupts Daichi, “We are there _ to support him _ and _ make him feel save, _ not to be judgy and push him away because of something _ as stupid as this! _ He’s a grown adult and he can do what- and _ whoever _ he wants!”

Daichi bites his lip. _He knows that._ And it’s not like he is judging Sugawara, he is just… he doesn’t know what he is. _Concerned? Prude?_ _Confused?_ It is all of them and still none. _Helpless_ \- that might get closest!

And not even because of Suga’s baggage, but more because of himself. Because _ he feels _ and he isn’t used to that anymore. He has suppressed any kind of affection for other people for so long, he doesn’t know what to do, now that the feelings for one person were _ so strong, _ he couldn’t just ignore them anymore.

_ What was it even that he felt? _

He couldn’t tell that either. It might be something honest and deeply affectionate at the core, but all his doubt, self-hatred and pain had muddied the emotion into a guilty little lump.

_ “Thanks”, _ he eventually mumbles, brows burrowed. “I…”, the words die in his throat and he can just helplessly flap his hands.

“Don’t”, Iwaizumi leans back in his seat. _ “This meeting never happened, _ clear?”

“Oh _ if Suga finds out about it, _we are all dead”, Hanamaki shudders.

Daichi nods with another swallow.

_ Wonder oh wonder, _ he is still alive - the only question is for how long.

And this could have gone far worse. At least he is now a little bit smarter.

_ Not a single bit closer to a solution _ for his dilemma, but at least smarter and _ knowledge is power _ or some bullshit.

*******

“Still?”,_ Hanamaki looked up as soon as he spotted him. _

_ Hajime nodded. _

_ “That is how long now? _ Three days?”, _ the strawberry-blond asked. _

“Yeah”_ , and Iwaizumi fell down into his usual spot between him and Tooru, staring at the void across from him. _

_ “Maybe he just caught a really bad cold”, Oikawa suggested without much enthusiasm. _

“Probably”,_ he agreed, but it was still nagging him. _

_ He wished he had Sugawara’s phone number, so he could ask if he was okay - _or even just to send him the homework. 

_ In all likelihood, he wouldn’t have been this concerned if the silver-haired had not disappeared _ right the day after _ their clash with the second-years. _

_ That had been on Tuesday, today was Friday and he was _ still _ not back in class. _

_ It was most certainly nothing, _ just as Tooru said, _ but Iwaizumi could not shake the stupid feeling it was somehow connected - which was idiotic, because _ what would even be the connection? _ Sugawara wasn’t the kind of person to just quit school altogether, simply because someone mocked him… at least Iwaizumi didn’t _ think _ he was. _

_ He sighed and looked at the toast his mother had made him. _

_ If the silver-haired would have filed a complaint with the school, then they would have been confronted about that, _ wouldn’t they? _ But that too felt very unlikely. He wouldn’t provoke further drama… _would he?

_ The more he thought about it, the more persistent Tooru’s earlier remarks became. Now that he was missing and Iwaizumi tried to find out why, he realized he really did know _ nothing _ about Sugawara. _

_ The only thing he had was an impression but under the weight of his overthinking, _that impression began to crumble.

_ He shook his head to get rid of all the weird thoughts and cursed Oikawa for planting doubts. _

_ There. _ Was. **No.** _ Reason. To. _Doubt.

_ Or was there? _

*******

“Hey err, _ Daichi!?”, _ Yui leans in the frame of the storage room.

Daichi is walking up and down the shelves, checking on their stock, clipboard in hand.

_ “Yeah?”, _ he asks absentmindedly, thoughts split between yesterdays meeting and his job.

“There is _ this guy _ in the shop, who wants to talk with you”, she informs him, thumb pointing over her shoulder.

It takes a few moments for his brain to process the words. _ “A guy?”, _ he pulls a grimace.

“Yeah, _ huge _ man, dark curly hair, oval eyes, looks like he’s gonna fall asleep on the spot, _ specifically _ asked for you”

With every attribute she names, his stomach drops further.

“Is _ hiding _ still an option?”, he croaks.

“I kinda already told him I’d fetch you? _ Why? _ Are you in trouble? I swear to all gods, I will _ not tolerate _ my shop to become some kind of gang hideout!”, Yui turns to look back down the hallway into the main shop.

“I don’t know”, he honestly tells her. “But I think that _ might _ be Suga’s brother”, he swallows.

“Sawamura Daichi, _ what did you do!?”, _ she looks at him sharply.

_ “Nothing!”, _ Daichi hisses, his voice high pitched, then he clears his throat. “But I’m glad to know he doesn’t only look shady to me”

He carefully places the clipboard somewhere it won’t get wet and takes a deep breath. “Okay here is the plan: _ A pot fell on me and I am dead!” _

_ “Get you ass out there, _ Sawamura!”

“You are a _ horrible _ friend, Michimiya Yui”, he grumbles and gingerly shuffles past her.

With an audible eye-roll, she gives him a shove in the back and he almost stumbles from the force.

It is _ indeed _ Matsukawa waiting in the main room. 

Daichi doesn’t know if he is relieved or concerned, that the tall man looks a little bit awkward. He knows the other always walks slightly slouched, but in their shop, which doesn’t have the highest rooms, it actually looks as if he was afraid of the ceiling.

_ “Hey”, _ the man says hesitantly as soon as he spots Daichi. “Can… we talk… _ outside?”, _ he asks and every word sounds as if he was forcing it.

“I erm…”, Daichi gives Yui a look, begging for an excuse not to, but his boss just raises a relentless eyebrow at him. _ “Yeah”, _ he deflates.

“It’s umn… warm outside and… _ won’t take long”, _ Matsukawa flaps his hand.

“Okay”, Daichi nods again, mouth already dry and with a last look back at the most backstabbing friend in the world, he follows the tall man outside.

He was actually right. A quick chill overcomes Daichi, but his pullover is definitely sufficient for the weather. He doesn’t _ understand winter _ any more, but then again, it _ is _ almost spring.

Matsukawa walks down the street, to the end of the building, then he slinks into the shadow between it and the next, leaning against the wall of the small alley.

Daichi stops at the entrance to the space, still in the sun, a hundred per cent convinced, if he follows that man, we will end up with a slit throat and deposited in one of the dumpsters inhabiting the alley.

_ Yui knows where and with who you are, _ he scolds himself. _ If he wanted to murder you, he wouldn’t be so stupid to show himself first! _

“Do you smoke?”, Matsukawa asks and Daichi flinches.

The question surprises him.

“No umn, _ I don’t”, _he licks his lips.

“Yeah, _ me neither”, _ and with the next move the curly-haired pulls out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter, setting one on fire and watching the tip starting to gleam. “I went to med school in the US for a year and I picked it up there. Then I came back and I quit but _ sometimes…”, _ the other’s voice fades out as he pressed the stump against the wall, snuffing the flame, only to lift it back up and light it again, eyes focused on the smoke.

Daichi doesn’t know what to answer. He expected to be either insulted, moodily stared at until he evaporates into dust or plain and simply murdered. Not that the other would try _ small-talk. _

But then it dawns on him. _ Sugawara likes me and Matsukawa doesn’t know how to handle that! _ He was trying to buy time, to cover up the fact he didn’t know what to do with Daichi. _ How to view him. _

Just as Daichi has no idea how to interpret the other’s behaviour.

And that gives him a little bit of confidence. At least they are _ both _ helpless in this.

_ “So, _ what did you want to talk about so urgently”, he steels his shoulders.

Matsukawa sighs, puts out the cigarette again only to try and relight it, but this time it doesn’t cooperate and after flicking the lighter on several times without result he curses under his breath, pulls out a small metal case in which he dumps the stump and takes a new one out the package.

Once that one burns he bites his lip and takes an inhale, pulling a bitter face.

It might be the most human behaviour Daichi has so far seen from the tall man.

“We haven’t really gotten off to the best start”, Matsukawa begins, “And to be totally honest, we don’t have to like each other, but… _ can I ask you to be honest with me?” _

“As long as you don’t want my credit card number”, Daichi stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

The other’s lips quirk up a little, but the tiny spark of amusement is immediately snuffed out by his usual gloomy expression. “What are your intentions towards my brother?”

_ There it is! _

Daichi swallows and turns his head away, looking down the street. _ “I don’t know”, _ he eventually says.

“Do you want to _ be _ with him?”

He bites his lip and his eyes drift down to the bricks of the walkway and eventually to his feet.

Does he want to be with someone? _ With Suga? _ Yes, _ desperately! _

Can he? _ Do that to him? _ His hands clench.

_ “No” _

For a moment there is silence between them and the only thing that moves is the smoke rising from the cigarette. Then Matsukawa puts that one out against the wall too and drops it in the metal case.

“Then do me, you and _ him _ a favour and tell Suga that!”, he steps away from the wall, unfolding his lanky frame to full height, slowly walking past Daichi, who just stands there, biting his lip, fists shaking.

A metre down the street the other stops and there is hesitation in his body language but he looks up at Daichi again. _ “Thanks. _ For the honesty”, he just mumbles and something that could eventually, maybe, _ possibly _ be sympathy flashes over his face. Then he trots on towards the subway.

Daichi doesn’t feel like he deserves it.

Because here things are, going down the drain _ as usual. _

_ He would have preferred to be murdered. _

*******

_ “You have a brain like a sieve, _ you know that?”, _ Hanamaki mocked him. _

_ “Says the guy who still starts to _ dribble _ a fucking _ volleyball”, _ Hajime retorted and jammed the key into the lock of the club room. “And also, _ you don’t have to follow me everywhere! _ I just want to fetch my pullover for Pete’s sake. I am not embarking on a mythical quest, to find bigfoot and leave behind all human contact” _

_ “No, _ that would be a lot more interesting”, _ Matsukawa yawned and Iwaizumi rolled his eyes hard. _

_ “Iwa-Chan, you need to _ wear _ your clothes!”, Tooru informed him. “Because if you don’t, then you _ always _ forget them. I have _ a dozen _ of your shirts at my place” _

_ Hanamaki opened his mouth, but Iwaizumi shut him up with an aggravated: “If you say _ ‘kinky’ _ , I swear I _ will _ punch you!” _

_ “I was going to say _ ‘What is that?’, _ but alright, _ thanks for the heads-up!”, _ the strawberry-blond huffed in fake offence. _

_ “What is _ what?”, _ Oikawa looked up from his Japanese book, he had been reading in for their next lesson. _

“That”,_ and the other pointed across the room, to the very corner, where a large, instrument shaped, black case was leaning against the wall next to the lockers. _

_ “Looks like a guitar”, Matsukawa mused. _“Bit weird though”

_ He wasn’t wrong. It was a bit too long for a guitar, but then again also too tiny for a contrabass. So yeah - _ weird guitar _ was hitting the right nerve. _

_ “Who does it belong to?”, Iwaizumi asked curiously, pullover forgotten, as he walked over to it. _

_ “I don’t know, man”, the tall boy shrugged. _

_ “Maybe one of the upperclassmen?”, Tooru suggested, following him to take a closer look. _

_ The case was elegant, shiny and obviously made from very high-grade material. _

_ Hajime gave it an experimental knock and it definitely wasn’t plastic. His guess was on _ fibreglass _ or _ thick aluminium, _ with visible signs of intense use in the form of a hand full of scratches along the bottom. _

_ He picked it up, leaning the case away from the wall, trying to find a name-tag or something of the sorts, but he didn’t spot anything. _

_ “Hey, _ how cool _ will trainings camp be if someone on the club plays the guitar!”, he looks up. “Do you think we’ll make a _ bonfire _ or something?” _

_ “We are the volleyball club of an elite high school _ and not the boy scouts, _ Iwa-Chan”, Tooru pulled a grimace. _

_ Iwaizumi faced him with a raised eyebrow. _

_ “But _ yes”, _ the other gave in, “a guitar _would be cool”

_ “I just hope it doesn’t belong to any of the _ jerks”, _ Hanamaki thought out loud and Iwaizumi turned his attention back to the mysterious instrument. _

_ Maybe they could look inside? _ No, _ that would be a violation of personal space, _ even _ if it really was one of the jerks’. _

_ “Are guitars meant to be _ so heavy?”, _ he asked. _

_ “How the hell am I supposed to know?”, Hanamaki retorted. _

_ “Well, _ you _ are in the music class!” _

_ “Let’s just hope it belongs to someone _ cool!”, _ the other made a dismissive hand wave. _

“It’s a cello”,_ Sugawara announced from behind them and Iwaizumi flinched so hard, he almost dropped the case. “And it’s mine… _sorry to disappoint you”

_ “You… _ you are back!”, _ he wheezed. He hadn’t noticed the quiet boy approaching at all. _

“I am”,_ the other said, stepping into the club room, walking over to him and taking the case out of Iwaizumi’s hands. “I forgot my notes” _

_ Hajime stepped back quickly, feeling a little ashamed for toying with it. _

_ “Is umn… _ is everything okay?”, _ he asked carefully. “You were gone for four days! I saved the worksheets for you” _

“I am fine”,_ Sugawara said, gently setting his instrument down on the ground, not taking his eyes off it. “And I already received the study materials” _

_ No _ thanks, _ no _ eye-contact, _ no _ nothing. _ Iwaizumi was starting to have a bad feeling. _

_ “Why did you bring your cello?”, Hanamaki chimed in and Hajime noticed how Sugawara bit his lip. _

_ It was Tooru who answered the question for them. “Because the second round of orchestra try-outs are today. _ I overheard the music teacher”

_ Iwaizumi’s eyes went from his best friend to the silver-haired boy. “But…”, he suddenly felt very empty. _“you are already in the Volleyball Club!”

_ Sugawara’s hands froze over the clasps of the case and his shoulders tensed. He was still kneeling next to his cello, staring at the distorted reflections the surface created. _

“Not anymore”, _ he eventually pressed out, flicking the lid open, revealing shiny, emerald cloth, that must be hiding the instrument itself and picked up the sheets of paper laying loosely on top, sorting them into a clean staple. _

“Why?”,_ Hajime didn’t intend to sound so angry, but he just couldn’t _ help _ himself. _

“What do you care?”,_ Sugawara snapped back and now he was even more shocked by the other boy’s sudden eruption than by his own. The _ thud _ of the cello case falling shut was deafening and echoed in the club room like a drumbeat. _

_ “We _ need _ you!”, Iwaizumi insisted, fists clenching at his side and he realized what he really was, was _ helpless. _ Because he didn’t understand! He thought they had become _ friends, _ that they were _ a team! _ “Is it because of these stupid second-years?”, he asked. _ It had to be! _ “We can report them or just _ punch _ them in the balls!”, he called out. _

_ “I vote _ punching”, _ Hanamaki contributed from the background. _

“Same”,_ Matsukawa agreed. _

_ But even their small attempt at loosening up the tension didn’t help much. _

_ “You don’t need me”, Sugawara stood up. “And you don’t have to _ pretend _ like you do! I put this here because I thought it wouldn’t bother anyone, but I will just try to find another place”, he mumbled, grabbing the handle of his case. _

_ Iwaizumi suddenly felt very _ empty. _ He could do nothing but look after the silver-haired boy and ask himself if he had really been _that wrong!?

_ The other was almost back at the door, when Tooru found his voice. “So you are running, because you’ve hit a bump! You can’t expect a perfect result without practice, _ you know?”, _ he shook his head. “I really didn’t take you for _ such _ a coward! But I suppose this is how you separate the wheat from the chaff” _

_ Hajime doesn’t know what the other expected as an answer, but judging from the way he flinches, Oikawa didn’t count on Sugawara finally _exploding.

“I am not running!”,_ he snapped, “I am simply smart enough to know when a battle is lost! But I don’t expect _ you _ to understand that!”, he whirled around, facing Tooru and there was anger blazing in his eyes, so fierce, Iwaizumi was almost frightened. Scratch that, he was _ definitely _ frightened! _

_ He had known there was _ something _ brewing underneath the silver-haired’s calm facade, but that the storm was _ this _ brutal… _

_ “I am _ neither _ disillusioned _ nor _ arrogant enough, to believe I will _ ever _ have a shot at a starting position, because contrary to you, _ I have my ego under control!”, _ he went on. “I am not questioning the fact, that you are _ much _ better than me and the last time I checked, you only need _ one _ setter on the court! The _ only scenario _ in which I will ever get to play is if you drop out or if you manage to _ ruin your knee entirely! _ And _ even _ if that happens in a year or two, there will be someone younger and more talented than me _ too. _ My shot at achieving _ anything _ in this Club is _ basically zero _ and I am not willing to waste my time on something _ pointless!” _ , the smaller boy’s breath went fast and his voice had risen into an _ almost-yell. _ “You do not _ know the first thing _ about me! You _ never _ had any competition, you never had to _ fight _ for your position! You just take and take _ and take _ and you don’t give _ a rat’s ass about the people you leave behind! _ You just _ bask in the attention _ and never think _ twice _ who you suffocate with your shadow, so don’t pretend _ like you care! _ Others might be content with being your entourage and playing second fiddle to the great Oikawa Tooru, but _ I _ still have my pride, so I recommend you _ shut your damn mouth _ and quit blabbering shit about things _you don’t understand!”

Silence.

_ Tooru looked like someone had punched him and Sugawara might just as well have done that. Iwaizumi was certain the world just turned upside down because the gentle and polite Sugawara he thought he knew used the phrase _‘rat’s ass’.

“Wow”,_ Hanamaki caught himself first. “Forget orchestra, you should join the Literatu-” _

“Shut up!”,_ Sugawara barked, turning to target him next. “Not _ everything _ is a joke and you don’t always _ have to have the last word! _ Just for once in your life _ stomach _ a critique and think about it, or is that really _ too much _ to ask?” _

_ The strawberry-blond stared at him, mouth agape. Iwaizumi had a bad feeling and it turned out to be the right hunch because the other boy wasn’t done _ quite _ yet. _

_ “And _ you”, _ he snapped at Matsukawa, who actually flinched back, _ “Grow. _ A. _ Spine!”, _ Sugawara spat. “You can’t always _ wait _ until you have something witty to say! Just _ stand up straight _ and _ get yourself an opinion! _ Some day the middle ground won’t be an option anymore, so wake up and fight for something!” _

_ Iwaizumi couldn’t do anything to stop it. He could just stare back into the cold brown eyes and notice there was pain underneath the anger. “I don’t even know _ where to begin _ with you”, the silver-haired snapped at him. “Just get your saviour-complex under control! I don’t need your help, _ nor your protection! _ I can fend for myself! People have _ lives _ and things that are _ actually important _ happen in those lives!”, the other turned to look back into the round, steeling his shoulders. “The world does not _ revolve _ around you and this stupid Club!” _

_ With those words, he whipped around and slammed the door shut behind him. _

_ It must have been the constant gazing at the clock that gave him away. _

_ “It should be now, _ shouldn’t it?”, _ Matsukawa asked, sitting next to him, equally unfocused, amygdalae eyes following the volleyballs rolling around the gym. _

_ The coach had granted them open training, but Iwaizumi didn’t feel like doing anything. _

_ Hell, _ even Tooru _ hadn’t yet recovered from the brutality of Sugawara’s speech. He was standing in front of the wall, looking at the ball in his hands, that he wanted to pitch against it, but he hadn’t moved _ in minutes. _ Iwaizumi noticed that he was wearing the supporter today. _

“Yeah”,_ Hajime’s eyes drifted off to the time again. _ The orchestra try-outs. _ They should start right about now. _

_ He was hurt, _ sure, _ but even more so, he was unsure of himself. Did he _ really _ have a saviour-complex? Maybe he _ had _ been too invasive. But he just wanted to help, just wanted to _ make things better… _ then again, who was _ he _ to judge what was good and what was bad!? _

_ Should he try to apologise? _Or would that be too pushy? 

_ “Something is missing, _ isn’t it” _ , Hanamaki sighed and crouched down in front of them. _

_ Neither Iwaizumi nor Matsukawa answered him. They all knew _ exactly _ what was missing. It was the calm and structured voice of reason, giving posture reminders and pointing out the tiny quirks of today’s practice. Without that presence there, that overlooked everything, _things were dull and boring.

“Iwaizumi?”,_ Hanamaki called after him. _

_ Hajime hadn’t even realized he stood up and walked away, but his feet carried him confidently. _

_ No, _ screw this. _ Maybe he spend too much time with Tooru and _ possibly _ Hanamaki, but he would not let _ those _ be the last words! If this was about him, then _ he _ wanted a say in this too! _

_ “He’s just gonna yell at us again”, Matsukawa mumbled, but he didn’t stop following him either. _

“Oh thank gods”,_ Tooru dropped his ball and jogged over to them as they left the gym. “I didn’t want to be the one to go first!”, he admits. _

_ None notices them leave and they hush across the dusk-painted school grounds. _

_ The Orchestra practised in the large music room, located in the furthest wing of the school building. _

_ They could hear them as soon as they were through the doors to this particular section. _

_ Someone was just finishing their audition and with a quick glance amongst themselves, they sped up until they could peek through the open door. _

_ The large room was mainly dark, with the exception of the stage prepared for the auditions. The music teachers were sitting below, whispering with each other, behind them the regular members of the school orchestra and the ones trying their luck. _

_ And _ luck _ was present indeed, at least for the four of them, hiding in the shadow. _

_ “Sugawara-San”, one of the teachers said and Iwaizumi spotted the silver-haired once he moved towards the stage. _

_ “I must say”, the teacher continued, “That we were all very sad when you declined our invitation at first. Which is why we are _ all the happier _ to welcome you now and to hear you play. This would not have been necessary, _given your skills!”

_ Hajime gave his companions a confused look, but the others just shrugged, equally uninformed as to which skills the teacher was referring. _

_ “Thank you for still having me”, Sugawara said with a bow, leaning the cello against his shoulder. “I just did not want any special treatment” _

_ “May we ask what piece you prepared?”, another teacher asked. _

“One of my own”,_ Suga straightened his shoulders. _

_ “Oh, _ an original, _ how exciting. _ Please, _ we are all ears”, she complimented and gave him an encouraging handwave. _

_ The silver-haired bowed again, then he sat down on the stool. But to Iwaizumi’s surprise, he didn’t get the notes he fetched earlier. He didn’t get any notes. _

_ Sugawara just sat there, eyes closed, bow hovering over the strings. _

_ And then he enlightened them in the question of his skills. _

_ He didn’t just play, he played like he was _ born _ to do that and the room was filled by the tones he created, captured by the way he moved, one with the instrument. _

_ It started with a steady, but fast rhythm, like a heartbeat, _ a fanfare, _ announcing something grand. The tones were powerful, longing and _ yet dreadful _ as if he was afraid of what he would conjure with his play. _

_ And then it faded, into a single long stroke, echoing like a sunrise, _ a curtain rising, _ followed by a heartbeat of utter silence and Iwaizumi thought that maybe Sugawara had forgotten what he wanted to show. _

_ It was silent until it was no longer and the whole might of the music unfolded in this regular High School classroom, _unworthy of its presence.

_ It was a hymn to pain, to despair, _ to doubt _ and yet _ so encouraging _ and energetic. It was a tribute to the fallen and the heroes. _ It was a reminder, that life had to be lived!

_ And it was over before it started. The piece could not have lasted more than two or three minutes and still, when Sugawara stopped, it felt as if they had all aged centuries. _

_ For a moment it was dead silent, then the teachers and many members of the audience showered the silver-haired in violent applause. _

But he didn’t look happy.

_ No, he seemed to shake and when he put his instrument back into its case, he did not so much lay it down gently as he threw it away, _like it was burning his hands.

_ The head music teacher stood up: “That was fantastic - we expect great things from your invo-” _

_ “I am sorry, but I _ can’t do this!”, _ Sugawara’s voice was hoarse as he slammed the lid of his cello-case shut. _

_ “Sugawara-San?”, the man furrowed his eyebrows. _

_ “I thought I could, _ but I can’t”, _ the silver-haired shook his head. “I am sorry for wasting your time” _

_ “Is everything okay?”, another teacher asked and the pale boy hesitated. _

_ “No, I…”, then his shoulders slumped, _ “Earlier _ I accused someone of taking their talents for granted and not considering that they were overshadowing and discouraging others” _

_ Iwaizumi felt how Tooru tensed. _

_ “But it turns out _ I am a hypocrite _ because I just tried to do the same”, Sugawara swallowed back. “In all honesty, I have had to stomach a lot of setbacks lately so I thought that… _ if I could succeed here, _ then I could work out the rest too. _ But I can’t! _ I can’t take away the hopes of someone who really wants to play in this orchestra, just to satisfy my ego. I’m sorry, I’m… _ really sorry!”, _ and with that explanation he grabbed his case, fleeing towards the door. _

_ Iwaizumi had little more than a second to realize they had nowhere to hide before he was facing the other. _

_ Sugawara almost stumbled in surprise and as he realized _ who _ he almost ran into his eyes turned large and his shoulders started to shake. For the first time, Hajime felt he could finally _ read _ the boy, now that the facade had crumbled away. There was hurt, there was anger, there was shame and fear and plain, overwhelming, numbing _exhaustion.

_ For a moment he was faced with all that, then it was covered up by defiance and pride as Sugawara lifted his chin and marched past them with squared shoulders. _

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thanks for reading and thanks so much to all the people so far who have left comments or given kudos, It makes me super happy.  
I know this chapter was another of the slightly weird ones, but that is due to it building up to one of the first climaxes, so prepare for a lot of angst and idiots in the next.
> 
> If you would like please check out [My Tumblr charlythelee](https://charlythelee.tumblr.com)  
There you will always get informed about new chapters and sometimes have sneak-peaks.

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my native language and while I try to double-check everything there are still going to be grammar/connotation mistakes (please point them out, that would be really helpful!).  
I hope you can forgive me.


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